The Reminder
by Mel88
Summary: Seven years after The War, a man from Hermione's past shows up one fateful night, bringing with him an old terror in a new form. She just wanted to forget her past. But could one man make her want to remember?
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: My second story! Hurrah! I encourage you all to check out my other story (Which Way Is Up?), which can be found on my profile. I'll say this once and only once, so read well: I do not own Harry Potter, nor would I ever even want to imagine taking the honor away from Jo Rowling. I hope you all like this. Please, review!

**Intruder**

The night was silent and still. No moon shone. The stars, which would usually sparkle brilliantly on a dark night like this, were lackluster. The only objects that emitted light of any kind were the streetlights. This light was not kind, however. Eerie shadows were thrown along the street, turning innocent-looking trees into many-handed, scraggly beings, ready to attack.

A faint 'pop' broke the silence of the night. A man, features distorted and blurred by the ghastly lamplight, panted for a second, not moving from where he stood in the middle of the road. Slowly, he began to run.

His footfalls were light at first, as if his apparition had consecutively been his second wind. Soon, though, they changed from a light patter to a plodding thud. He was slowing down. The young man put a hand to his side. Pulling it away, he inspected it under the lamplight. Even in the dull glow, he instantly recognized the too familiar crimson sheen: blood.

He cursed. Looking around him for the first time, he saw that he was surrounded by houses; he had landed on a residential street. Again, he cursed, hoping that he was not being followed.

He began to run again. He took no more than five steps when a dark mist encroached upon his vision. Dizzy now, he stopped checking his wound.

'God damn, that bastard got me good. There's so much blood,' he thought, his mind a little foggy.

The young man knew he would not have much time if he continued on in this fashion. He needed a place to bandage his wounds, and if he was lucky, a place to stay for the night.

His decision was made. Veering to the left, he approached a small house. It was a modest-looking structure: one story with rose bushes lining the walk to the front door. A small car that looked like it was never used was parked in the driveway. Beyond that, he saw a wood fence, painted white, which enclosed the owner's backyard.

'This will have to suffice for tonight,' he thought, glancing over his shoulder once more.

Instead of going to the front door, for that would have been much too conspicuous even for this late at night, he skirted around the dusty car and hopped over the wood fence. The backdoor would be an adequate entrance tonight.

Trying the doorknob and finding it locked, he whispered a simple "Alohomora". He heard a click and silently swung the door open. Instead of paying attention to the movement of the door, he took in the modest furnishings of some Muggle's laundry room. The door swung shut with an audible clunk. He winced at the noise, praying that the Muggle who lived here would not wake to it.

XOX

Hermione had always been a light sleeper. As a child, she had been remarkably aware of nighttime sounds. She had once been annoyed at the chirping of crickets and the low hooting of owls; they kept her awake. Every so often, she would wake up to a midnight thunderstorm. But now, she was older and accustomed to the nature's nighttime song. They were like a natural lullaby, soothing her to sleep when her often troubled mind roiled with turmoil.

Ever since The War, however, not even nature could sooth her nerves. It was seven years since Voldemort had been defeated, but not without costs. With his demise, Hermione had lost much of what was close to her, most strikingly her best friends. Harry had died while defeating Voldemort. With his death, something inside her had died as well.

'His death changed everyone,' she thought as she stared at her ceiling.

The Weasley family, who she considered to be an extended part of her own, became sullen. Mrs. Weasley was prone to sudden fits of tears whenever Hermione was around. Or when anyone who reminded her of Harry was around, for that matter.

'That explains why Ron went away,' she thought, tears forming in her eyes. 'We were so close and so happy before all this happened. I almost wish it could have stayed that way.'

She and Ron had been a couple since their sixth year and rumors had started to fly from unknown sources about their impending marriage. She did not put much stock in rumors in the first place and this one was no different. And yet Hermione always kind of assumed that she and Ron would end up together. It was looking that way until…

'Until Harry,' she thought again, silent tears forming rivulets down hr cheeks.

Ron took off after Harry died. He disappeared for two months without any contact with Hermione or his family. When he returned home, refusing to answer questions about his whereabouts, he told everyone that he was off to live in Ireland and play Quidditch there as a reserve Keeper. He ignored Hermione completely, only officially severing their relationship after she approached him several times on the matter.

'I just wanted to help him. I wanted to be there for him, but he shoved me aside.' Her tears flowed with renewed vigor now.

After several more minutes of silent crying, Hermione reasoned with herself. 'I shouldn't be dwelling on such things. It's best just to forget.'

She was on the verge of sleep, this thought echoing in her mind when the bump of a door shutting reached her ears. She bolted up in her bed, wide awake.

'Someone is in my house,' she thought, slightly panicked. Wiping the remnants of her tears from her eyes, she grabbed her wand, a dangerous gleam in her eyes and a stern look upon her face.

'Whoever it is picked the wrong night to break in here,' she thought venomously, and slipped out of her room to confront the intruder.

XOX

He stepped over the hampers of dirty laundry and made his way into the kitchen. He took one of the dishtowels hanging off the fridge and pressed it to his side, feeling the blood, which had been seeping from the wound quite steadily, soak into the towel, making it warm and slightly sticky to the touch. Taking a washcloth from the drawer, and making sure it closed noiselessly this time, he turned on the tap. Wetting the cloth sufficiently, he grabbed another dry towel and sat himself at the kitchen table, lifting his shirt and looking at the gash on his side for the first time.

It was deep and ugly looking. The cut was still oozing blood, but at a slower rate now.

'That's good, at least. But if I hadn't been so stupid as to get myself hit with that hex in the first place…'

He trailed off, quietly muttering to himself and hissing slightly as he pressed the wet cloth to his injury.

XOX

'He's in the kitchen,' Hermione thought. She was pressed up against the wall, being as silently as she could be. 'He probably snuck in through the back.'

She heard the tap running and the scraping of a kitchen chair against the wood floor. He mumbled something and she heard him hiss.

'Now!' she told herself.

Hermione sprung out of her hiding place, wand held out in front of her.

"Stupe-". She stopped mid-jinx. Sitting before her at her kitchen table, shirt raised and covered in blood was none other than Draco Malfoy.

XOX

Draco looked up at his attacker, his calm exterior betraying the panic he really felt. Then his jaw fell open.

"Granger?" he spat in surprise. 'Of all the houses on the street, I just had to choose _this_ one,' he thought to himself, silently cursing his bad luck.

"Malfoy?" Her voice was shrill, bordering on a scream, outrage written on her features. "What the bloody hell are you doing in my house?" she asked, angry beyond all reason.

He gave her his customary Draco smirk, knowing it infuriated her even more. "Well," he said in his usual drawl, "I was just cleaning myself up. But now that I know whose rags I'm using, I'll probably just get an infection." He hated to return to his old habit of meaningless insults, but it _was_ Granger, after all.

Hermione's expression was one of pure malice. She strengthened her grip on her wand and kept it level with Draco's head as he slowly and deliberately stood.

"Get out, Malfoy. Now, or else I will not hesitate to jinx you into oblivion."

"Fine, Granger, fine. Don't get your knickers in a twist. It's not like I want to stay in this filthy house anyways." He looked around with an expression of disgust.

He nonchalantly walked to the back door, Hermione's wand now pointed at his back.

"Here's your rags back, Granger. But don't get your hopes up-my blood won't make your's any cleaner." He threw the blood-soaked items at her face. Before she had a chance to retaliate, he was gone into the night.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: I decided to get this second chapter out quickly because I had hardly any hits or reviews on the first one! Ahhh!! Hahaha, anyways, Happy Halloween and enjoy!

Ministry Work

Fuming, Hermione picked up the bloody rags on the floor.

'How dare he!' she thought angrily. 'He breaks into my house, bloodies up some of my best towels, acts like he bloody well _owns_ the place, and then has the nerve to insult me after it all!' She huffed in frustration and turned on the lights.

"What a mess," she vocalized, staring at the spatters of blood and dirty footprints on the floor. "_His_ mess, and now _I_ have to clean it up!"

Thoroughly annoyed now, Hermione sighed and wetted one of the already bloodied rags. On her hands and knees, Hermione scrubbed the kitchen floors and counters until not a trace of blood remained. She locked her doors, checking and rechecking them just to be certain that they were indeed locked. Truly tired now, she headed off to bed, somehow finding that sleep came easier to her after the excitement of the night.

XOX

For the next few days, Hermione was still quite annoyed with Draco's invasion of her house, and more noticeably, her thoughts. At night, she listened intently for any unusual sounds of a break-in. Every creak the house made was the soft footstep of an intruder and the tree branch scraping against her window was a crook cutting through the glass. After three nights of virtually no sleep, Hermione concluded that he was not going to return. She continued her life as normal, or as normal as it could be considering all that had changed in her life.

Hermione did not really know what she was going to after Hogwarts, and neither had she really planned anything. The War had taken up the majority of her thoughts, brainpower, and time. Before The War, Hermione knew what she had to do. More than that, she was _told_ what to do. The Order gave her instructions and she followed them without complaint. When it all ended, when Voldemort was finally defeated, a weird and new sense of uncertainty gripped her. She was on her own now, an adult. No one could tell her what to do and only Hermione truly knew what she wanted.

Of course, the options were almost limitless for Hermione. She could become an Auror, having dealt with the Dark Arts so proficiently at such a young age. Some expected her to follow that path. She chose not to though, much to the dismay of Mad-Eye Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt. Hermione told them that she did not want to do the field work of an Auror, but that was a lie. The real reason was because it hurt too much. Many of the people in the Order had died, most to whom she was close: Lupin, Tonks, Snape, Fred, and Ginny. Not to mention Dumbledore and Sirius. And Harry. She did not want to be reminded of her losses every day. No, Hermione wanted to forget.

The best way to forget, Hermione discovered, was to resort to her old standby: books. She applied for a job at the Ministry of Magic in the research department. This is where Hermione felt like she was in her element. Daily, she was surrounded by them. She researched whatever the Ministry felt should be researched: properties of new plants, strange disappearances, side-effects of new spells, the effects of the goblin revolution on current affairs, and the like.

She worked with two other people. One of them was a woman named Augustine DeLivre. She had been working at the Ministry for about 30 years. She was quiet and kept to herself. Hermione liked her well enough, but felt a little kernel of fear whenever she looked at her. Augustine's skin was dry and weathered, tinged with the sickly-looking color of old parchment. In short, she looked like the books with which she worked.

'I hope I don't look like that when I get older,' Hermione often thought, surprised at her own vanity.

Her supervisor was a man named Edgar Vines. He was a big man with pinched features and mousy brown hair. He reminded Hermione of Peter Pettigrew; she felt uneasy in his presence, like there was something about him that was not to be trusted. It surprised Hermione that he was not doing Ministry grunt work. She wondered if there was a reason he was shut up with books instead of people, for research work was certainly not his passion. He handed off most of the files he received to Hermione, save the important ones. Trying to improve his standing in the department, Edgar wanted those for himself.

'Which is silly,' Hermione thought. 'He's already the supervisor. How much more control can he want?'

Edgar approached Hermione one day with his customary stack of files filled with questions that needed answering. He dropped them down on her desk with a thud, sending a flurry of loose papers hither and thither. Hermione looked up in annoyance from the file she was working on, a particularly interesting one on the legal rights of centaurs.

"Yes, Mr. Vines?" her tone laced with the irritation she felt.

"Mmm, Hermione."

His voice made her shudder in disgust for a reason she could not explain. She did not know whether it was the nasal quality of his voice that disturbed her or the low tones which he always used to speak to her, as if every conversation they had was intimate or secret. Or it may have been the dreadfully slow way in which he spoke, like Hermione was a five year old in need of special aid. Something about him bothered her, though, that was for certain.

"I'm absolutely swamped with work," he complained. Hermione glanced to his desk, seeing no more than three files upon it. She rolled her eyes. "I need you to take these cases over for me."

"Mr. Vines-"

"Edgar, please."

"_Edgar_. I don't mean to complain or anything, but you must have given me over ten files to complete. I haven't even finished the stack you gave me last week. Is there any way that you could possibly lighten my work load a little bit?"

Hermione realized her mistake as soon as she finished speaking. Wishing she could take the words back, but knowing she could not, she braced herself for what she knew was coming.

"You can't handle your work load, Hermione? Hm. Have you been feeling this often? You know what, maybe I should just go to the head of the department and tell him about this. Perhaps then he would learn not to hire _students_ too _incompetent_ to handle _real_ work."

Hermione cut him off before he could make any more idle threats. Both she and Edgar knew that she was the one that did the most work in the department and was vital to its success. Still, the hint of a threat was there, and Edgar could make her workplace a very disagreeable one if she happened to get on his bad side.

"You know what, never mind. With a few late nights, I'm sure I can finish everything."

He smiled sickly. "Excellent. I'll need those on my desk by next week. Thanks, Hermione."

'I'm not about to let him walk away with the upper hand,' Hermione thought to herself.

To Edgar's retreating figure, she said, "Oh, and Edgar? It's Ms. Granger, not Hermione."

She saw him stiffen and pause. For a moment, she thought he was going to turn around, but he moved forward.

'No doubt that will cost me later on,' Hermione thought. 'Oh well. It was worth it.' Smiling wickedly to herself, she got back to work, knowing that she was in for a long night.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: Chapter three! And still depressingly few reviews...hint hint. I hope you enjoy it!

Snatched Back

Hermione brewed a fresh pot of coffee, which the wizarding world had only recently discovered the joys of, in preparation for the work that lie ahead of her. Minutes before quitting time, Hermione handed Edgar the last files from the previous week's stack.

"Have a nice night, _Hermione_," he said with a sick happiness in his voice.

Hermione gave him a controlled but angry look. He turned his back and walked out of the office. His eyes averted, Hermione changed her look of dislike to one of sheer frustrated annoyance. She glared at his back and sneered at the slight spring in his step.

'He leaves early everyday after doing practically no work, and here I am, stuck with these utterly _normal_ reports on the legality of…' She opened the first folder of the pile. 'Flying carpets.' She tossed the file moodily down on her desk.

She sighed as Augustine gave her a small wave and left the office after Edgar. She readied her desk, organizing her quills and ink and clearing space for the new files. She grabbed a cup of the freshly brewed java, added cream and sugar, and took a sip. Hermione smiled as the hot Muggle brew slid down her throat. The effect was almost instantaneous. In a matter of minutes, the caffeine sped through her bloodstream and to her mind, exciting it enough to continue on with her work. Steeling herself for a long night of research, Hermione opened the first file and went to work, delving into her mind for stored information and prizing open long-forgotten texts for the particularly tricky items.

At 2 a.m. and after a whole pot of coffee, Hermione decided it was time to call it quits for the night. She organized her work station once more, straightening the files and replacing the books she used. She had finally placed all of the files into a neat pile when she noticed that a quill had fallen to the floor. Grunting with the weight of her bag across her back, she bent to replace the offending plume back into its holder.

As she stood back up, her bag brushed against the pile of folders. Hermione watched it totter precariously for a moment. She lunged to try and catch it but succeeded only in throwing herself uselessly onto the floor. The entire pile came crashing down next to her in a flurry of parchment. Hermione groaned and picked herself up. For what felt like the fiftieth time, she went to work arranging the pell-mell pile.

That is when Hermione's eyes wandered onto a file that she must have missed when she first perused them. The file was thin and contained in a folder that was smaller in size and closed in a different way than the rest of the files. It was labeled 'Entropy' in shiny, bright red ink. Hermione racked her brains back to her training.

'Bright red ink…' she mused, staring at the file. Then, it clicked. 'This is a high priority case!'

She shivered with excitement, her eyes animated despite the lack of caffeine and the early morning hour.

'Mr. Vines did not mean this for me,' Hermione thought with certainty. She was tempted to open it, but looked at the time again.

'2:30,' she sighed. 'For tomorrow then.' Hermione left the file carelessly on top of her desk and resolved to work on it first thing in the morning.

She Apparated home and fell into bed immediately after changing into her pajamas and brushing her teeth. She slipped into sleep relatively quickly, waking only a few times to her usual nightmares.

XOX

Her alarm clock buzzed at 7 a.m., as was normal. Hermione forced herself to abandon the warm and comfortable recesses of her bed. She was about to grumble to no one in particular about how tired she was, but then remembered what the day held in store for her.

'Today is the day I work on my first high-priority assignment,' she smiled. '_Entropy_.'

Her sleepiness dissolved immediately as Hermione rushed out of bed to get ready for work. In the shower, she imagined all the possible topics her file could be. The more she thought, the more excited Hermione became.

'It could be _anything_,' she thought. 'Maybe it's a file regarding a new and secret branch of the Ministry. Or perhaps it's about a different section of Azkaban. What if it has to do with the Unspeakables?' Hermione gasped as this thought passed into her head and finished her shower quickly.

Hermione was a whirlwind of flustered excitement for the rest of the morning. She almost walked out of her house in nothing but her bathrobe, and then again after she had only put make up on one eye. She tossed on a wrinkled robe and completely forgot about drying her hair until she was at the door. Hermione hastily placed a few charms on her bushy locks to make them curl nicely and was satisfied with the haphazard job that she did: one side of her head was curlier than the other. After completing and passing a final mental checklist, Hermione at last walked out of her house and Apparated to the Ministry of Magic.

Her enthusiasm was practically palatable to those she encountered on the way to her work station. She just about ran down the halls, nimbly dodging the other Ministry workers slowly trudging into their offices. She was quite certain that she was the only one smiling that morning.

Despite her setbacks at home, Hermione reached her office earlier than normal, again most likely the only person in the Ministry to do so willingly. She set down her bag and took a seat, trying her best to remain calm. More than anything, she wanted to whip the file open and tear through the papers it contained, but did not for discretion's sake. She unwound the string holding the file closed and was about to lift the flap when a meaty hand came down upon it.

Hermione jumped and looked up. 'Oh no,' she thought with dread.

"_Hermione_," Edgar said, putting particular emphasis on the use of her first name. "Now, I can't imagine how you got a hold of _this_." He gave her an accusing look.

She caught the hint and gave him an affronted look. 'Surely he doesn't think I stole it!'

"It must have been caught on one of the files you gave me yesterday," Hermione said, offering him the most logical explanation and, coincidentally enough, the truth.

"I hope that is what happened, Hermione, for _your_ sake. I wouldn't want anyone to get the idea that you are trying to worm your way up the food chain, if you get my meaning. I'd be careful. You wouldn't want people to get the wrong impression of you now, would you?"

It was clear by his tone that he wanted nothing more than for Hermione to be black-listed amongst Ministry personnel. She had an ominous feeling that if he could, Edgar would see to her downfall as soon as he got a chance.

Edgar gave the file a little tug. Hermione realized that she was still gripping the file. She reluctantly released it, angry at herself for not working on it last night or at least hiding it.

'So much for discretion,' she thought. She mentally kicked herself for her carelessness.

"That's a good girl," Edgar said, condescension oozing from every word. "Now, you get back to work."

Hermione was too angry and disappointed to give him a snappy response. Edgar walked off with the file clutched in his ham-like hands, his head held jauntily in the air. Crestfallen and annoyed, Hermione resigned herself to working on the wizarding world's trifles like normal, today beginning with the effectiveness of self-stirring cauldrons.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: I really have nothing to say except enjoy and please review!

A Second Encounter

After having the 'Entropy' case quite literally snatched from between her fingers, Hermione's life progressed with a frustrating tedium. She woke every morning to the annoying buzz of her alarm clock at 7 a.m. She took a quick shower, ate a simple breakfast, packed an even simpler lunch, and headed off to work.

There, she buried herself in books and heaps of old parchment, searching not only for answers but also a case that could bring some excitement into her life. She had been perfectly content at work before the 'Entropy' case. Now that she had a taste of the excitement a high-profile case could give, she was yearning for another one. But alas, she did not receive one, no doubt do to Edgar's file filtering. Every night, she was the last to leave the office, owed to her constant flow of new work via Edgar.

Arriving at her home, she ate dinner and oftentimes read for pleasure. Or she would flip through the meaningless and hopelessly clichéd television shows, never really settling on anything. Hermione searched for any way to occupy herself until night arrived. For if she was left to think, her mind would wander to her past.

'My past already haunts my nights,' she thought reasonably. 'I refuse to let it trouble my days as well.'

She thought of Draco's intrusion only occasionally. He had made it very clear to her that it had been a mistake, and she had no reason to suspect a repeat performance. Although she did wonder what or who had wounded him. And why he ran from his assailant instead of fighting. Whenever these thoughts occurred, she shook them from her mind, reminding herself to focus on the present and her future, not on the immutable facts of the past.

And so passed two weeks.

XOX

One Friday, Hermione arrived home from work sopping wet. It was pouring buckets outside and she, of course, had forgotten her umbrella. She would have performed an Impervius charm, but she lived on a Muggle street.

'I'm sure I would have looked a bit conspicuous walking down the street in the middle of a downpour completely dry.'

She stepped inside and dried herself off with her wand. Glancing out the window, she concluded that the rain was probably not going to let up anytime soon. A faint flash of lightening and a distant rumble of thunder supported her guess.

"I'm in for a long, sleepless night," Hermione said wearily, thinking of the oncoming storm.

She ate dinner and decided to retire early to bed. Slipping on her green-striped pajama pants and white tank top, Hermione decided to forego her usual reading in bed. A storm was approaching and she was tired; she figured she might as well _try_ to get some sleep.

Hermione tossed and turned, sometimes dozing off for a few minutes, but waking due to the storm. At about 1 a.m., the storm reached its zenith. Rain lashed against her windows, eventually turning into pea-sized hail, making it sound as if someone constantly was throwing little pebbles at her house. Hermione bolted upright as lightening struck a tree somewhere nearby. Her whole room lit up for an instant with blinding white light. Thunder clapped deafeningly, shaking the very foundation of the house. Then a noise that was not native to the storm reached Hermione's ears: bells.

'My security jinxes!'

Ever since Draco had entered her home, Hermione had installed several security jinxes to make sure that she would not be caught unaware again. Adrenaline pumped through her system as she rocketed out of her bed. She grabbed her wand from her bedside and silently raced out of her room. She made her way to the back door, where she had placed that particular jinx. Quickly and quietly, she crept along the hallway, ready to spring upon the trespasser. Hermione reached the threshold of the kitchen and was about to leap across it when she slammed into something hard. Or rather, something hard slammed into her. Whatever it was knocked her off her feet, and she gave a cry as she fell to the floor.

"Granger," came a voice from above her, "you've got to help me."

She recognized that voice anywhere, even without the sarcastic drawl. Looking up only confirmed her suspicions. There he was, standing over her, soaked to the bone, blonde hair plastered to his furrowed brow by the rain.

"Malfoy," she growled. "What the devil are you doing in my house, _again_?"

He frowned at her question and looked about the room. "No time for questions now. Quickly, we've got to get to your bedroom."

Hermione watched from the floor as Draco waved his wand at the windows, which were quickly covered by shutters. He took her hand in his and bodily pulled her up from the floor. Not hesitating an instant, he dragged her across her sitting room and into her own. Shoving her into the room first, he slammed the door, closed the shutters on the windows, and started to undress.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing, Malfoy?" she asked, outraged at his audacity. His shirt fell to the floor in a wet heap. Another lightening bolt lit struck and filled the room with white hot light once more. In the brief radiance, his pale skin hardened into the alabaster quality of a chiseled Adonis.

Not pausing to offer an explanation, Draco jumped into Hermione's plush bed, yanking her in with him. Draco pulled the still-warm blankets up over them both. She then let loose a stream of insults mixed with questions, her voice a low hiss.

"Malfoy, you cocky bastard. What the hell do you think you're doing? Put some clothes on and get out! I don't know what possessed you to…"

She was silenced as Draco clamped a hand over her mouth. His face was startlingly near to hers. "Do us a favor, Granger, and shut up!" he interrupted her with a steely glare.

Draco removed his hand and started to feign sleep. After a moment, his eyes opened a crack to see if Hermione was doing the same. She wasn't. Instead, she was overtly glaring at him, and opening her mouth again to tell him off.

"Granger, don't be dim. Now is not the time for stubbornness. Do you want us to get killed?"

A thunderclap and a bolt of lightening punctuated his question. She was about to say something when movement outside her window caught her attention. She raised her head off the pillow slightly, curious but cautious. Two figures, silhouetted by the light from their wands, were trying to peer into her house. She heard one of them mutter something and saw the shutter slowly begin to roll up.

Understanding now that whoever these men were, they were not friendly, Hermione's head dropped to the pillow and she closed her eyes. She did her best to keep a calm expression on her face, but it was tough. She could hear them moving around, trampling the flowerbeds she worked so hard to plant and maintain. They were at the other window now. After another minute of inspection, the two figures left.

Hermione opened her eyes and glared at Draco. He now seemed only slightly worried about the people who had just peeped into her life. She had not missed the urgent and, dare she call it frightened, tone in which he had first addressed her. She wondered why he had been so concerned and decided that now would be a good time to find out.

Slowly, with a tense veneer of calm coating her voice, Hermione said, "One: Malfoy, get out of my bed this instant. Two: explain to me what the hell just happened. Three: tell me if these men mean me harm."

He was silent for a second, contemplating his answers. "Alright Granger, I'll play your game. One: those men will be back, and if they see a bed with one person when at first there were two, they'll know something's up. Two: it's too long of a story to explain right now, and I'm tired and bleeding. Three: right now, you are with me, so yes, these men _do_ mean you harm."

Hermione's mouth gaped open and her eyes were wide; she was too stunned for words. What little Draco said had sunk in. And as much as she hated to admit it, he was right.

"Fine," she said huffily. "But I expect a full explanation in the morning. Now let me see where you are injured."

He rolled his eyes. Hermione half expected him to shoot her some sort of remark about her so-called "dirty blood", but he did not. Instead, brought his knee to his chest and rolled up his pant leg, exposing a nasty-looking scrape. She could see bits of gravel and dirt wedged in his pale skin.

"This needs to be cleaned. How long until those men come back, do you think?"

Draco looked at her disbelievingly. "You want to heal me, Granger?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "No, I want to keep my sheets clean. Now answer the question."

She could see him smirk in the darkness. "I don't know, but I'd rather not risk it."

"All right, then we'll have to deal with this right here." Hermione conjured up a bowl and placed it under his leg. While holding her wand over his scrape she muttered, "Aguamenti,", causing water to gush from her wand and over his leg. For a minute, she let the water course over his leg and saw it wash away the dirt and gravel. Hermione smiled to see it work. With a quick movement of her wrist, she conjured bandages that automatically wrapped the newly cleaned area.

"You're welcome," she said expectantly.

Draco only grunted in response and turned away from her. Within two minutes, Hermione heard his breathing slowly and rhythmically rise and fall. He had fallen asleep.

She shook her head at his back in disbelief as another boom of thunder rattled the window panes. 'It's amazing how men can sleep through anything,' Hermione thought. She remembered Ron and how often he fell asleep on top his homework while they were in school. 'He could sleep through a game of Exploding Snap,' Hermione remembered fondly.

She immediately regretted the thought as her eyes filled with familiar tears. As always, she pushed the past and the theories she was forming about Draco's second break-in away. For the first time in her life, she tried to follow Malfoy's example. To her surprise, she fell asleep in a matter of minutes and did not wake the rest of the night.


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: Chapter five, whee! Read and review and, above all, enjoy!!

Shower Time

Hermione stretched in her bed, her eyes still closed against the soft sun filtering through the partly closed shades.

'I can't remember the last time I slept so well,' she thought satisfactorily. She smiled to herself. She rolled over, swinging her arm over her head. She brought her arm down harshly onto something warm, soft, and moving slightly. She heard an annoyed grunt, then a soft snuffle that turned into a snore. Hermione froze. Last night then came crashing back to her and she remembered just who else was in her bed. She tore her eyes open, the first thing in her sight being the sleeping form of Malfoy, his face and body disturbingly close to her own.

Hermione stifled a scream of surprise. Suppressing the urge to wake him and hear his explanation for last night, she instead carefully removed herself from the bed and showered.

Great ideas usually came to Hermione while she was in the shower. It was her place of inspiration, the one place where she could just be with herself and think. The hot water would run over her shoulders, working out the tension that had usually knotted itself there during her troubled sleep. Not only would it rinse clean her body, but also her mind and soul. For Hermione, a shower meant a fresh start, and that was how she began every day.

Today's shower, though, was not filled with intelligent thoughts on the current broomstick shortage. Oh, no. Today's shower was filled with thoughts of Malfoy.

'I cannot believe that I have had two run-ins with him in the span of a month. And I actually woke up with him this morning. Now that is something I never thought I would do. I can see Rita Skeeter's column now: Hermione Granger Sleeps with Arch-Nemesis Draco Malfoy, Taken in for Brain Scan Shortly After.' She chuckled at herself and continued her train of thought while soaping her body.

'The fact that he was half-naked just makes my situation all that more unbelievable. He took off his shirt! He did have quite a nice chest, I have to admit…And he was so warm…Wait, what am I saying? I can't like Malfoy's chest. I can't like any part of him! It's Malfoy, for Merlin's sake!' She paused, then thought, 'I am a human woman, though. And anyone with eyes could see that he has a nice physical structure…I mean, I _do_ have eyes…Quidditch obviously does a body good.'

Hermione stopped shampooing her hair having just realized what she had thought. She shook her head, spattering the shower walls with bubbles in the process. She tried to dislodge the mental image of Malfoy's chest, every sculpted line of it outlined by last night's lightening storm, from her mind's eye. She was not very successful.

'Why the devil am I justifying looking at his chest?' she thought, now moving on to the conditioner. 'He tortured me for seven years of my life, and now I'm making up excuses for his erratic behavior and my wandering eyes. Hermione, what has he done to you? And why did I get a decent sleep last night? That was the weirdest part of the evening…'

She toweled off and, praying that Draco had not yet woken up, wandered back into her room to fetch clean clothes from her dresser. She peeked around the door and determined that it was safe. She tiptoed in, keeping her eyes focused on her dresser and her towel clutched to her breast. She crouched down to better access the drawers. Water was still dripping from her partly dried body, gathering into a puddle on the wood floor beneath her feet.

"Nice towel, Granger."

Hermione leapt up in surprise, almost dropping the lavender towel that was precariously wrapped about her. Trying to regain her composure, she put a foot into the puddle of water that had collected below her. With one hand clutching the towel to her chest and the other crazily flailing about, Hermione fell to the floor with a shriek.

Draco looked at her in surprise for a moment, then burst out into peals of laughter. "Granger!" he said, doubled over in her bed. "You should have seen your face…" he trailed off, gasping for breath. "That was brilliant, that was…" His laughter increased as he saw Hermione's face, red with embarrassment and slowly contorting with anger at his glee at her expense.

With as much dignity as possible, Hermione picked herself up from the floor. Snatching her clothes, which had landed right beside her, she stuck her nose up in the air.

Hermione attempted to talk over Malfoy's laughter. "If you want to take a shower, towels are in the hall closet."

She stiffly walked out of the room, ignoring Malfoy, who was now wiping tears of mirth from his eyes, and into her guest bedroom. Locking the door, Hermione groaned. She silently berated herself for not being more careful and heard the shower start to run. She dropped her towel and changed quickly. She wanted to go to the kitchen before Malfoy emerged from his shower, afraid that he would stroll out in the buff.

'He probably would, too,' she thought, still aggravated at her luck, 'just to annoy me.'

XOX

Draco heard Hermione wake and stretch, her warm arm hitting him across his shoulders. He grunted his discomfort and felt her wide eyes upon him as he drifted closer to consciousness. He heard her get into the shower and thought, 'Well, it's no use in me getting up until she finishes.' So he just lounged around in Hermione's bed, thinking about how awkward this would be in any other situation.

He made a sound of disgust. 'Any other situation? What other kind of situation was I imagining?' slightly worried that he had gone mental. 'Ah, I can see the papers now: Pureblood Sleeps with Muggle-Born, Taken Out and Shot Immediately upon Discovery.' He laughed quietly to himself and drifted back into a light sleep. No more than a few minutes later, he heard her end her shower and pad softly to the door of her room.

'What the devil is she doing?' he wondered. He resisted the urge to open his eyes as she entered her room. A moment later, feeling like it was safe, he opened his eyes. What he saw made his jaw drop: Granger was squatting next to her dresser in nothing but a lavender towel. He shook his head, surprised at what a lovely form she had.

'I never noticed she was a girl behind her robes…' he admitted and continued to peruse her body. 'Her legs are quick lovely,' he noticed, seeing that the towel only covered her up to her mid-thigh. Draco shook his head, ridding his mind of the heretic thoughts he was just having. He smirked to himself, knowing what he was going to do next would result in hilarity.

"Nice towel, Granger."

He was not disappointed. She threw her clothes up into the air in surprise. The burden-less arm wind-milled comically as her other hand clutched the towel to her breasts and her face morphed from one of complacency to surprise. She wound up on the floor, mortified. Draco laughed and laughed, seeing her struggle to maintain her dignity and her composure. Enjoying the scene too much to listen properly, he heard something about a shower and towels in some closet. Through tears, he watched her exit the room, getting a good glimpse of her legs and a little more.

Eventually, Draco stopped laughing and tried his hardest to push thoughts of Granger's body from his mind.

'I _am_ a man, though. And I'm not blind…' Draco shrugged, content with his justification for looking at her.

He took a quick shower and walked into the kitchen with a grin on his face. He still could not forget her fall! Smelling tea and toast, his smile widened and he seated himself across from Hermione. He helped himself to toast, contently munching on it while Hermione gave him a death glare.

"So," she said expectantly.

He looked at her with a confused expression, knowing it would irritate her if he played dumb. He inwardly smirked, wondering how she was going to react.

"So what?" he responded.

She gave an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes. Whether she truly believed that Draco did not know what she meant or not, she deemed it necessary to remind him of all that happened last night.

XOX

'For me to go through this all again,' Hermione thought vehemently, 'he had better have a good story. Ugh, he is so insufferable!'

"Last night, Malfoy," she said voice laced with annoyance. "Remember? You breaking in? Sleeping in my bed? Getting me involved? Anything ringing a bell?"

He changed his expression to one of surprised recollection and gave a loud, "Oooh, yes. _Now_ I remember!"

XOX

She gave him a sneer to rival his own; he was momentarily proud of her for that.

"Alright, Granger. Don't get your knickers in a twist. What do you want to know?"

"_Everything_," she replied.

He paused. "Once I tell you this, Granger, you will officially be involved," he said in all seriousness. "Once you hear this, there is no going back." A part of him hoped she would say no; he knew that her involvement would risk her life.

'Not like I care too much about her life,' he thought, again justifying his thoughts about Hermione.

Another part though, wished she would consent to listen to his tale and perhaps help him along the way. As strong as he was mentally, physically, and magically, Draco had been beaten by these people twice. He was not thick enough to assume he could do this alone.

She looked at him calculatingly, trying to decide whether or not to believe him. After a moment, she said, "Malfoy, tell me."

Draco raised an eyebrow at her and took a deep breath, ready to give Hermione the explanation she wanted.


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note: Hey all! Get ready for chapter 6! Enjoy and review!

Entropy

"Ever since The War ended, I've been working as a freelance spy."

"Working for whom?" Hermione interrupted.

Draco rolled his eyes. "And to think the professors thought you were clever. _Freelance_, Granger. I work for myself, then the highest bidder," he said after a slight pause. "I collect information I think will be useful. The people that want it and can afford it know where to find me. Lately though, I've been hiring myself out. It's dull work really," he said in response to her interested expression. "Mostly spying on cheating spouses. But about four weeks ago, someone came to me with a very interesting opportunity. He wanted me to do work on a religious sect that had made headlines in both the Muggle and Wizarding papers recently. Intrigued, I took the job."

"I tried doing research on it, but found nothing. I asked my connections and again came up short. Then one night I finally caught a break. I was at a Muggle bar and – don't give me that look, Granger! I was _not_ there by choice," he said in response to her look of disbelief. "Anyways, I was at a bar and I heard these Muggles talking about a few of their friends getting involved in some cult activity. I thought it could be a lead, so I bought them a few drinks to loosen their tongues. Soon, they were able to give me a possible location of one of the cult's branches right here in London. I went to investigate, but I was seen. A foolish mistake on my part - a shoddy Disillusionment charm. A guard shot a hex at me, hit me in the side. I Apparated out of there and onto this street, where I…"

"Where you then broke into my home, made a bloody mess, and insulted me. Yes, I remember that night well." Hermione gave Draco a look of contempt, which he returned with equal feeling.

"Well," he continued coldly, "since then I've been doing a bit more reconnaissance work: asking questions, loitering about their facility, and such. The information I gleaned from that was not sufficient for my boss, so I took more drastic measures."

"You didn't try and join, did you?" Hermione asked.

"Close. I learned from my observations that wizards who wanted to join had to actually break into their facility to prove their worth. I got through most of the course okay. I passed a physical trial, a magical trial, and a moral trial. Oh, don't look so surprised," he said, seeing the disbelieving look on Hermione's face at his mention of a moral task.

"I thought I was in for sure, but one more trial still remained: a mental trial. They had an extremely skilled Legilimens and I didn't block my mind fast enough. He deciphered my true intentions - that I wanted to enter to look around, not to join. An alarm sounded and I was chased from the grounds."

"For some reason, though, they did not try to hex or jinx me like they did the first time. They seemed more intent on catching me alive and whole. I was tired from the gauntlet of tests I had to pass and needed shelter. I remembered your address. And that's how I ended up here."

XOX

Hermione was silent for a moment, shocked by the wealth of information that she had just gathered. She watched Draco serve himself tea, finding it hard to believe that she was filled with a feeling other than loathing when she looked at him. Actually, Hermione was impressed.

'He is either incredibly brave or incredibly confunded to have attempted to take on a whole religious cult all alone,' she thought.

A dozen questions popped into her head. She waited until Draco took a sip of his tea to start her interrogation.

"I understand how you got to my house again, but how were the guards able to follow you here?" A horrible thought then occurred to Hermione. "They don't know where I live, do they?"

"No, they obviously do_ not_ know where you live; otherwise we would have been caught. As for how they found your street, I can only imagine that they saw a flash of it when they were rifling through my head."

"Why did they not attack you though? Surely it would have been safer and easier if they had just killed you straight out. Then they wouldn't have to worry about their secrets being divulged."

"Thanks for your sympathy, Granger," he said sarcastically. "Although, I cannot deny that went through my head as well. They really had no excuse _not_ to kill me and could have hit me any number of times. By choosing not to, they endangered their secrets. I figure that they'll be on the hunt for me, and now you as well, since you know about everything."

Hermione furrowed her brow as she thought over the implications of hearing Draco's story. 'I have put myself in danger. Undoubtedly, this group will have spies on the lookout for Malfoy. They may not want him dead, but they probably will not hesitate to kill me if I'm with him.'

"So what are we going to do?" Hermione directed towards him as much as towards herself.

XOX

'We…' The thought seemed to echo in Draco's mind. 'It is both of us now. What are we going to do?' thought Draco while he stared at the table. The answer was obvious, but risky. 'We need more information. We need to go back and try and get in. Or, I need to go back. There's no point putting Granger in harm's way. If she can help me, great, but she's of no use to me dead,' he thought.

He took his eyes off the table and surreptitiously glanced at her. He gave an inward chuckle. 'I could probably stare right at her for hours and she wouldn't notice.'

Hermione was gazing out of her kitchen window, her eyebrows knotted together. Draco noticed that she did that whenever she was thinking. 'It's rather charming, actually,' Draco thought with a small smile. The thought appeared before he could rein it in and now it floated freely about his consciousness, disrupting his thoughts on how to get past the guards.

'Why the hell am I thinking about Granger's quirks?' he frowned. Again, the answer occurred to him quite quickly, though he was able to ignore it completely. Determinately, he turned back to his original thought and hesitated before voicing it. Mentally running through his options once more and deciding that none other would be appropriate, Draco spoke.

"Plain and simple, we need more information."

Hermione looked to him, understanding in her eyes. She was obviously thinking along the same lines. She nodded.

"The only way to get it is for me to go back in there."

"What if they kill you this time, though?" Hermione asked.

For some reason, Hermione's concern irked Draco. It was like he was back in Hogwarts again, when The War was first starting. No one counted on him for anything. No one believed he could handle himself. His father had the least faith in him of all. But had he not almost killed Dumbledore countless times his sixth year? Had he not found a way to sneak Death Eaters into the school? With all these bad memories rising to the surface, Draco snapped, "What do you care? My life means nothing to you anyways."

XOX

Hermione was shocked a Draco's reaction to her concern. It was disproportional and unneeded. She let the hurt register on her face for a moment, before covering her sensitivity to his remark with a mask of anger.

'He seems to have forgotten whose house this is and what exactly I've done for him. I think I've had enough.'

She slowly rose to her feet. "Get out, Malfoy," she said slowly.

He started to speak, perhaps to apologize, but she cut him off. "You enter my home on two separate occasions. You humiliate me, insult me, and belittle me each time. I showed one bit of concern and you pounced on me like a hippogriff on a ferret. I'm sick of it Malfoy; you've got to go."

She said this all very calmly and very slowly, thinking about each word before she spoke it. When she finished, she looked him in the eyes, trying to decipher any emotions hidden within their gray depths.

To her great surprise, Malfoy's silver eyes held triumph within their depths mixed with just a dash of regret.

"I can't leave," he said, a smirk appearing on his face. "You're involved now, like I've been saying. I've got to stay."

XOX

He thought her eyes were going to dance with anger, but instead, they dulled.

"You're right," she said, sitting back down in her chair. "You're right." She said this with an air of defeat, which disappointed and disheartened Draco. He wanted her to get angry at him for his logic, not cede his point. That way, he need not have felt guilty for snapping at her. As this now was not the case, Draco felt compelled to apologize.

Unwilling to fully admit to his wrong, Draco gave a meager and nearly silent, "Sorry."

Hermione gave him a weak smile and told him it was okay. He did not believe her. She slumped against the back of the chair, her shoulders drooping depressingly. Her eyes were still lackluster and, for the first time that Draco had been with her, Hermione looked extraordinarily tired.

XOX

'I'm just so weary of all this,' Hermione thought after Draco had half-apologized. 'I'm tired of my moodiness, of his insults, of my past and how it's affecting my life. I just want to forget it all.'

She gave Draco a feeble smile and attempted to steer their conversation back to their next move.

"So, do you know the name of the cult?"

"Yes," Draco replied, looking somewhat uplifted now that they were back on a comfortable subject. "Yes," he repeated. "The cult is called 'Entropy'."


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Note: Hey all! Finals are (finally) over and now I'll be updating more frequently. Enjoy and review!!

Plots and a Doorway

Draco flinched as Hermione stood swiftly. Her chair toppled over onto the floor in a series of bangs and she strode purposefully out of the kitchen.

"What the…Granger!" he yelled, following after her. He found her pacing in her sitting room, muttering to herself. She was burying her fists in her hair, tousling it and making it bushier than normal.

'She looks certifiable,' thought Draco with a raised eyebrow. 'And it doesn't help that she's talking to herself.'

"Damn Edgar, if only I had…I can't believe…so close! So this means the Ministry…we have to get it." Turning to Draco, she repeated her final statement. "We have to get it." She set her face into a determined mold and went about her house, rifling through various drawers.

He let her continue her searching for a few minutes, hoping she would either find her quarry or grow tired of the hunt. When she showed no signs of slowing, he grabbed Hermione by one of her upper arms, turning her towards him. She stopped moving at his touch, but still seemed to be off in her own little world.

"Granger? Granger!" He steadily looked into her eyes, immediately noticing that the fire usually dwelling behind them had been relit. "Will you stop skittering around? You're making me dizzy. Now tell me what the hell you're thinking and what you're looking for."

Finally, she seemed to slow and regain her composure. "Looking for?" she said, obviously confused. Draco wondered if she remembered what she was doing just a few minutes earlier.

She went on to answer the first part of Draco's question. "I work at the Ministry, Malfoy, for the research department. Not but a week and a half ago, my superior accidentally gave me a high-priority file. Realizing his mistake, he took it back the next day before I got a chance to open it. The name of the file was-"

"Entropy," they said together, locking eyes once more.

"We've got to get that file. That is what will give us the information we need without risking our safety," reasoned Hermione.

"Just one problem, Granger. How are we going to get our hands on it? You can't very well filch it from right underneath your boss' nose." Draco rubbed his forehead and sighed, taking a seat on one of Hermione's couches. "Even if it's still there, odds are against us getting it. This isn't going to work; we have to think of something else."

Hermione looked at him in disbelief. He noted her silence and looked up, making a puzzled expression at her astounded face.

"Are you kidding me? You think this can't be done? You don't think that we can steal a Ministry document? What happened to the Malfoy I knew in school? You were always finding a way to slip through the rules without getting caught!"

"Yes, that's exactly it, Granger. _I_ was the one slipping through the rules. _I_ was the one not getting caught. And since _I_ can't exactly walk into the Ministry and take the document we need, we need to think of another plan."

XOX

Hermione let out another angry gasp of disbelief, finally understanding what Draco meant. 'He doesn't think I can steal it!'

"Good thing you won't be the one sneaking into the Ministry then," she said matter-of-factly.

He looked at her like she was crazy and gave a small chuckle. In a quiet voice, he said, "Yeah right."

"You seem to forget who I was friends with at school." She saw him scowl at the recollection of Harry and Ron. "Do you think they could have succeeded in their plans if I wasn't right there with them? No, I was as much of a rule-breaker as either of them. Besides, I know where my office is, security passwords, and where the document will be. Trust me, I can do this."

XOX

'She sounds so determined,' Draco thought. Her hands were on her hips and her feet were planted shoulder-width apart. 'And she does have a point.'

"Fine then," he ceded. He saw a look of triumph dart across Hermione's features, then added, "But I have a stipulation of my own."

Her face fell a bit at his statement. "I'm going with you," he said.

At this, Hermione face did not descend into one of defeat or anger. Instead, she started to laugh.

"What are you going to do? Wait outside the Ministry doors for me?" she mocked.

"Exactly," he responded.

She scoffed. "Oh, don't be thick. You'll be seen. No, it's much safer if I just go alone."

"Granger, why the hell would I trust you to steal something that is of importance to me? This is way too important to entrust to someone of your…_parentage_." Draco hated to return again to his Hogwarts insults, but Hermione was annoying him now. He had to make it clear to her that he was going, whether she liked it or not.

'This is not a decision she gets to make on her own,' he thought.

XOX

Hermione was tempted to whip out her wand as his unnecessary jibe. 'I should have known he would use a blood insult soon. We were getting along too well for it to last for long. Of course, he just had to screw it up, the git.'

She restrained the impulse to blast him to tiny pieces and reluctantly agreed to Draco's demand.

"This requires a lot of planning," she said tersely. "We had better get started."

XOX

Draco and Hermione worked tirelessly through the rest of the day. They went over when they would execute their plan, excuses they would use in case they ran into anyone, the benefits of disguises, and most importantly, communication.

Draco had suggested using Muggle spy earpieces to communicate, but Hermione promptly nixed his idea: the Ministry of Magic, like Hogwarts, was protected from such Muggle technology. He then suggested Patronuses, to which Hermione agreed.

To the surprise of both, they had hardly fought at all. Draco kept his insults to a minimum and Hermione found that she did not need to threaten him as often. They were acting civil towards each other once more.

'He's surprisingly pleasant company now that we're finally on the same side,' thought Hermione as she and Draco cooked dinner.

The small kitchen was crowded with two people bustling about. Hermione was almost scalded by a pot of hot water Draco was carrying for pasta. Likewise, Draco was nearly stabbed by a knife-wielding Hermione. They laughed about these instances over their spaghetti.

'I still find it hard to believe that I'm enjoying his company,' Hermione thought as she listened to Draco tell her about how he once had to disguise himself as a woman to uncover a cheating husband. She smiled both at her thought and at the story, amazed and slightly worried by her change of opinion.

She finished her dinner at around the same time as Draco. Standing, she offered to take his plate.

"I'll help you with the dishes," he said. "I don't mind."

Hermione looked at him, pleasantly surprised. "Thanks."

Then he smiled at her, a truly friendly smile. His whole visage was transformed by his genuine happiness. She almost did not recognize him.

She returned the gesture, her heart skipping a little. 'Hermione, what has gotten into you?' she scolded herself as she walked to the door. Her eyes were on the floor in embarrassment.

XOX

'Draco, you have to stop this childish behavior,' he mentally admonished himself. After seeing Hermione return his smile, his stomach did the tiniest flip. He trained his eyes to the floor, a little embarrassed at his reaction. He walked to the door, still not looking up. He crossed the threshold, but collided with Hermione, who had been in her way in as well. For a moment, the two were stuck in the doorway together.

Draco had never been this close to her before; his body was flush against hers. He could feel his belt buckle sink slightly into the skin of her stomach and felt his loins jump startlingly. Being about a head taller than she, Draco was able to smell the still-lingering scent of her shampoo: coconut. He had the strangest desire to feel her soft-looking lips upon his own. He then remembered her after the shower, her little lavender towel and her lovely legs. He began to blush, but then remembered who he was: he was a Malfoy, and Malfoys did not blush. Instead, he looked down into her eyes, giving her a devilish smirk.

'She's the one blushing now,' Draco thought as he saw her cheeks redden. Quickly, Hermione mumbled an apology and moved out of the door frame and into the kitchen. She immediately busied herself with the dishes.

XOX

Hermione made a fuss of doing the dishes when in reality she was trying to catch her breath.

'Being stuck in that doorway with Malfoy was…' Her mind ran through an extensive list of adjectives, all appropriate to how she was feeling but none that did not make her blush. Finally, she settled on one that did not make her face turn an ever deeper shade of crimson: '…_interesting_.'

When his body touched hers, she felt a rush of heat spread from her chest to the rest of her body. When she had looked up into his eyes, she could have sworn that for a second, he had wanted to kiss her. 'But that's preposterous,' she thought. 'Even if he is attracted to me, which he probably isn't, he detests my blood. For that reason alone, he wouldn't kiss me. In fact, being that close to me probably made him want to take another shower.'

Yet despite her reassurances, she kept thinking back on the flicker of desire she saw in his eyes and the roguish smirk he gave her. And she could not deny her own body's reaction to the encounter.

'I must remember to be more careful, else this whole ordeal could be terribly awkward.'

After cleaning up her kitchen and having some slightly uncomfortable after-dinner tea, she set Draco up in the guest bedroom.

Snuggling into her own bed, Hermione's last thoughts were of Draco. She then drifted off into her second night of untroubled sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note: A little holiday gift...enjoy, and please review!

Surprises

Hermione woke up excited for the day ahead of her. 'Well perhaps not for the day,' she corrected herself. She and Draco would not put their plan into motion until late that night. Until then, she was unsure about what to do. She was usually alone on the weekends and hardly ever went out. She now faced two dilemmas: entertaining Draco and finding something with which to occupy their time. She decided that she would need to talk to Draco a bit more about their arrangement.

She took a shower and went into the kitchen, surprised to find that Draco was already up and had cooked a nice breakfast for them both. An owl swooped through her back window and delivered the Daily Prophet. Putting a knut into it's pouch, she took the front section of the paper.

"Can you hand me the sports section?" Draco asked.

She handed it to him and returned to her daily perusal of the Prophet. With both of them reading, their breakfast passed in relative silence, only broken by the rustle of the flipping pages and the scrape of their forks on the plates in front of them.

Hermione took Draco's plate once he had finished. He was going through the paper with suspicious thoroughness, scanning each page carefully.

"What are you looking for in there?" Hermione questioned.

He did not look up from his reading. Hermione was about to repeat the question when he answered her. "I'm working."

She shot him a skeptical look, which he missed. "Working?"

"Yes Granger, working. Do your best not to forget that I'm still a spy," he said, still reading the paper. "I'm not about to quit just because some mental cult is after me."

She shrugged off his attitude and voiced her second concern. "I couldn't help but notice that you've been in the same clothes for a few days now."

Now he looked up at her. "Good job, Granger. Is there anything else you'd like to tell me that I don't already know?"

She sneered at him. "It's getting a little disgusting."

"What would you have me do? Borrow some of your clothes?"

"Not unless you would allow me to take pictures," she said in a completely serious tone. Draco shot her a weird look. "What I would have you do, Malfoy, is go home and pack a few items that you think would be helpful during your stay here."

Sighing, he said, "You know that's risky, Granger. Goons from Entropy are probably monitoring my house. Do you want me to get caught?"

"Don't make me answer that," Hermione said sarcastically, earning another look from Draco. She was getting annoyed with his reluctance to leave her house. "You need clothes, Malfoy, simple as that. You could either get them yourself or send me, whichever you prefer."

XOX

Draco frowned when he heard her ultimatum. He lowered the paper as he thought. 'That doesn't give me too many options,' he thought. 'Either I go to my house and get potentially caught or she goes and potentially gets killed. So who do I put first?' He chuckled inwardly. 'Tough question,' he thought. No matter what happened between him and Hermione last night, it did not change what they were: himself, one of the last true purebloods and Hermione, just a common Mudblood. His decision was made.

"You can go, Granger. Just arm yourself and keep your eyes open."

He gave her a list of items that he needed and told her the address. Before she Disapparated, Draco saw her slip her wand into the inner pocket of her jacket. He secretly hoped that she would not need it.

XOX

Draco had told Hermione to arrive in a secluded alley near his home. She knew it was a smart move; it was too risky to Apparate straight to his house. She walked to the end of the alley, looking around for unfriendly faces. Seeing none, she calmly walked out of the alley and was confused as she looked down the Muggle street. She thought she was mistaken and checked a street sign.

'Nope, I'm right,' she thought, a little puzzled. She walked down the street, searching for the correct address.

Hermione walked past his house, making a visual sweep of it first, noting all the places people could be hiding and possible escape routes. His house was not Malfoy Manor, like she had expected it to be. Instead, it was shockingly like her own. It was small, somewhat isolated, and slightly decrepit.

'Hm, there is a slight discrepancy between this and Malfoy Manor. I wonder why he isn't living there anymore. I'll have to remember to ask him later.'

She walked over to his side of the street and, checking for nosy pedestrians, snuck to the back door of his house. She muttered a quick unlocking spell and quietly slipped into his house.

'Wow, talk about not judging a book by its cover,' she thought as she looked around the foyer. Despite the ugly outside appearance of Draco's house, the inside was gorgeous. The walls were painted in dark, rich hues. The floors were wood and the kitchen counters looked like they were constructed of finest marble.

She ventured further into his house. His sitting room was amazing. An expensive looking rug covered most of the floor and his furniture was ornately carved with just the slightest modern touch. His shelves were littered with antiques, probably heirlooms. Everything was reminiscent of wealth and status.

A bookcase stood in the corner of the room. Hermione wandered over to it and glanced at the titles. Some of the books she had seen in the Hogwarts' library. Others were foreign to her and looked incredibly gruesome in nature. A dark stain on one of the books could have easily been a spatter of blood and one particularly small book looked like it was bound with skin. She shuddered in disgust, but was still thoroughly fascinated by everything she saw.

'I could explore this house all day,' she thought while looking at a cabinet filled with ancient relics.

'But maybe later,' she thought and stealthily moved further into his house searching for his room. She felt like a fool tiptoeing around the house, but she could not run the risk of assuming it was empty.

She found his room and was even more impressed by how it was decorated. The wall color was, of course, green and his sheets were black. Hermione fingered the material. 'Silk…even if he's not in his manor anymore, he still lives the high life.' She furrowed her brow in confusion. 'He lives in relative opulence, but this situation still makes no sense...'

Hermione looked around, noticing that no pictures were hung on the wall. In fact, now that she thought about it, no pictures were anywhere in the house. 'No pictures of his mother or father, no deceased relatives, not even pictures of friends. It's as if he's trying to forget who he is.'

She was tempted to sit on the bed and further ponder why _Malfoy_ of all people would want to forget where he came from when she remembered the list. Finding a trunk, Hermione piled in his shirts, pants, boxers, giggling as she encountered a particularly silly pair with enchanted broomsticks zooming all over it, and hygiene products, along with a set of phials containing a few different types of potions. Content with what she gathered, she started to roll the trunk out of his room.

She then heard a noise coming from his foyer. The front door to Draco's house was opening. Hermione pulled her wand from her jacket, a mélange of spells popping into her mind, all ready to render the recipient of the spell incompetent.

A soft female voice called out from the front hall. "Draco?" It wavered slightly, as if a tad frightened by being alone in his house. Hermione furrowed her brows, doubting that the woman was in any way associated with Entropy.

She heard the click of the woman's high heels on the shiny wood floors, coming ever closer to where Hermione was standing. Now she had a decision to make. 'To wait and be found or to spring out with the element of surprise?'

She could have snorted with the obviousness of the answer. She leapt out from behind the wall with the speed of a cat, brandishing her wand and ready to fight.


	9. Chapter 9

Author's Note: First post of the new year! Yay! Hope everyone had a good one. Enjoy the chapter and don't forget to review!

A Familiar Opponent

The woman screamed when she saw Hermione. She jumped backwards and thrusted her hand into her pocket, drawing out her wand. "_Expelliarmus_!" she shouted.

Hermione was ready, though, and yelled, "_Protego_!" Hermione's spell activated first, sending the wand of her opponent flying. She reached out and swiftly caught it, never breaking her aim at the woman she had just disarmed.

For the first time, Hermione got a good look at her foe. She was familiar for some reason. The girl had dark brown, if not black hair. She was tall and slim, dressed in fine business-like attire. Her dark eyes were blazing with malice and were set in her pug-like face. 'Pug-like face,' Hermione thought, trying to place the girl. 'She's so familiar!'

Her opponent spoke first. "Granger?" The girl practically spat out her name, as if it were foul upon her tongue.

Finally, Hermione placed the face. "Parkinson," she said with equal malice.

The two glared at each other from two feet away. Hermione could see Pansy's hand twitching at her side and was happy that she had Pansy's wand and not the other way around.

"Why the hell are you here, Granger?" said Pansy venomously. "A Mudblood like you should know better than to enter the home of a Pureblood. It's a crime considered, by _our_ kind, punishable by death."

"I could ask the same question of you, Parkinson. I knew Malfoy was a low and dirty git, but I never imagined he was desperate enough to take a dog like you into his bedroom."

Her eyes filled with rage and her body was physically shaking with the exertion it took to not leap and attack Hermione. She remained silent for a moment.

"Well, since you don't seem to have the wit to come up with another pathetic insult, I think I shall be going now." Hermione pulled Draco's trunk out from behind the wall and shoved past Pansy, almost knocking her off-balance. She walked to the middle of the room, finding enough space for both her and the trunk to Apparate back to Hermione's house.

"Oh, and before I forget…" Hermione dropped Pansy's wand onto the floor. "Keep better hold of it next time."

Hermione had just situated herself and the heavy trunk to leave when she heard a roar escape Pansy's lips.

'Oh shit,' Hermione thought.

She whirled around just in time to see Pansy diving at her. Unable to move out of the way in time, Pansy hurled full force into Hermione's stomach, knocking the wind out of her.

With an 'oomph', both girls fell to the floor. Pansy had abandoned her wand in favor of her fists. She sat atop Hermione's chest, hindering her from moving and trapping her wand arm. Her fists flew, striking Hermione in the face more than once. Grabbing great handfuls of her hair, Pansy started to shake Hermione's head, knocking it into the floor.

Stars flew in front of Hermione's eyes from the repeated knocks to her head. Her ears were ringing with the shrill sound of Pansy's shrieks. 'I need to get out of this mess, now!'

Hermione fought back using her left hand, landing random blows to Pansy's face. Hermione gathered up all her strength and aimed a clout for Pansy's head, hoping it would catch her mid-swing so that she would be thrown off Hermione's chest. Letting loose a cry of fury, Hermione swung, hoping that her aim would be true.

It was. Pansy screamed and practically flew off Hermione. Now having the use of her wand again, Hermione shouted, "_Petrificus_ _Totalus_!" Pansy's limbs snapped together and she stayed motionless on the floor. Still on the floor, Hermione turned her over and looked in her face. Pansy's eyes glared back up at her, silently promising revenge. Smirking, Hermione got to her feet and walked away from Pansy, who was turning purple with rage. She walked to the middle of the room, grabbed the trunk, sarcastically waved goodbye to Pansy, and Apparated back to her home.

XOX

Draco was pacing Hermione's sitting room. 'How long does it take her to get bloody clothes? She's been gone for almost an hour now! She better not go through my things. I hope nothing has happened to her.' His thoughts meandered between anger and worry as he constantly checked his watch.

He turned his back to the middle of the room and looked out the windows, as if expecting her to waltz up the street with his trunk in hand. He then heard a pop and turned around, wand drawn. What he saw almost made him drop it.

It was Hermione, but not as she had left. She looked like she had gotten into a fight with the Whomping Willow and had lost. Her hair was tangled and twisted into dangerous-looking snarls. She face was shiny red. She had a cut at the corner of her mouth and another above her left eyebrow. She looked at Draco for a second, triumph in her eyes. She then collapsed, the back of her head thudding on the hardwood floor.

"Granger!"

Draco rushed over to her and gently picked her up. She groaned a bit and blearily opened her eyes. She tried to speak, but Draco shushed her. Quickly, he transported her to the couch. Making sure she would not fall off, he went to the kitchen and fetched a few rags. Soaking them with cold water, he walked back to the couch where Hermione was laying. He wrapped the clothes around her head and dabbed at the cuts marring her face.

He waved his wand at the shades, creating an atmosphere of darkness in the room so as to not aggravate Hermione upon her waking. "_Ennervate_," he said quietly, reviving Hermione from her faint. She groggily opened her eyes and looked at Malfoy. For a moment, he caught a flash of emotion run through them, but could not pin it down.

'A trick of the light,' he reasoned. He dabbed Hermione's forehead with a wet cloth a few more times and muttered an incantation to lessen the pain he knew she was feeling.

"Your first fist fight, Granger?" he asked, trying to insert a bit of humor into the situation.

Hermione caught on and, despite her weakened state, gave a small chuckle. "You should have seen the other girl."

He laughed and reached his hand out to her head, intending to stroke her hair. He caught himself halfway and withdrew the offending limb, which had seemed to move of its own accord.

"What happened?" he asked.

XOX

'What happened?' she silently scoffed, her attitude changing from pride to ill-concealed and inexplicable jealousy. 'As if you don't know.'

"Your _lover_, Parkinson, showed up as I was beginning to leave. She attacked me. That's what happened," Hermione said, her voice laced with weary spite. She glared up at him, not knowing exactly why she was angry at him or why she was jealous. Unable to handle his shocked and slightly amused expression, Hermione pushed herself up from the couch. Her head spun at the sudden change of altitude. She winced and laid back down.

"Pansy?" Draco furrowed his brow. "That's odd." He saw Hermione give him a wry look. "No one suspicious-looking was hanging around? Absolutely no one?"

'He didn't even deny that she was his lover. Disgusting,' she silently fumed. "No one but that _tramp_."

Draco gave her a look of surprise and restrained anger. "Tramp, Granger? That's a pretty harsh term coming from someone with your history."

"_My_ history?" Hermione said in an annoyed tone. She pushed herself up against the pillows. "And what exactly would _my_ history be, pray tell? Surely it's not as sordid as yours."

Draco reddened slightly at the implied accusation, but regained his composure quickly. "Perhaps not," he said with a smirk, "but the whole school knew about you and the Weasel. Your impending marriage…and I'm sure you two _had your fun_." He said the last sentence in a voice laced with disgust.

Her eyes filled with angry tears at Draco's words. "You have no right to talk about Ron like that," Hermione dangerously whispered to him. "You do not know what I went through or the hurt I felt. Make fun of my parents or of my bushy hair. Say that I'm a know-it-all, a Mudblood, a useless, bucktoothed beaver, but do _not_ talk like you know me, Malfoy, because you don't." With venomous eyes, she stared at him. He kept her glare for a moment, then tore his steel eyes away.

After a marked silence, Draco spoke. "What are we going to do about tonight?"

Hermione looked at him, irritated. "What do you mean?" she snapped.

"Granger, you can't even stand. How do you expect to break into the Ministry and steal something?"

She glared at him. "I am not a 'weak' woman like you might think, Malfoy. I will recover by tonight. We're still on. Besides, we cannot afford to wait until next weekend. Now let me up. I'm going to take a nap; my head is pounding."

XOX

Draco was tempted to help her off the couch, but thinking back on "weak woman" statement, he thought he ought not. 'I don't want to run the risk of insulting her; I still need her help.'

He watched her hobble off to her room and close her door. He stared at the barrier for a second and shook his head. 'She is too determined for her own good. She'll get herself killed one day. Stupid girl.'

In all of the excitement, Draco had forgotten about his trunk. Now that things had settled down, he dragged it into his room and opened it. 'She packed well,' he thought, glancing at his clothes. All of his clothes were neatly folded in the trunk and his phials were carefully wrapped underneath a sweater to protect them. He did wonder, though, why his favorite broomstick boxers were sitting atop all his other clothes.

He unpacked his stuff into the dresser and thought about what Hermione had gone through to get his stuff. 'It's strange that she didn't see anyone suspicious. I thought for sure that someone would be monitoring my house. And what was Pansy doing there?' He had not bothered to deny his involvement with Pansy, but she knew only to come when he called, never to show up randomly.

'Odd,' he thought.

Draco pushed the thought out of his mind and exited his room, looking for something with which he could occupy himself for the rest of the day. Noticing her ample collection of books, he pulled one off the shelf and immersed himself in it, sometimes only half-reading it, for his mind was preoccupied with Pansy, Entropy, and especially Hermione and her role in all of this.


	10. Chapter 10

Author's Note: Well, you know the drill by now. Read, review, and most importantly, enjoy!!

The Search

Hermione fell into her bed. The change of elevation combined with her new orientation made the room spin. She gripped the blankets and twisted them, her eyes watering slightly from the pain she felt.

'Pansy got me worse than I thought.' She moaned into her pillow and curled up into a ball, wishing the pain to leave. 'I really hope I feel a bit better by tonight; I don't think I could handle Malfoy being right once more.'

With that thought, Hermione closed her eyes and napped, nonsensically hoping that when she woke up, she would not find that Draco had destroyed her house.

XOX

When she woke up, the sun was starting to set. 'I've been out for a while,' she thought, eager to find out if her head felt any better from her rest. She sat up and grimaced; her head still ached a bit. She stood, and felt the same. Content that the pain was not going to get any worse, she walked out of her room.

After taking a quick shower, and feeling much better because of it, she found Draco napping on the couch, a book limply in his hands. Hermione looked at him expressionlessly and debated about whether to wake him or not. She decided to let him sleep and slipped past him into the kitchen. She bustled about, making tea and thinking about their dinner.

Draco must have heard her moving about because a few minutes later, in he strolled, hair mussed and eyes bleary.

"Tea?" she curtly offered. Draco raised an eyebrow and nodded, reaching for a cup.

XOX

Draco could tell something was wrong with Hermione. 'Maybe her head still hurts,' he thought. When he asked her how she was feeling, she glared at him and said, "_Fine_."

He scoffed. "Granger, I'm not an idiot. What the hell is wrong with you?"

XOX

'I am not in the mood for this,' Hermione thought grumpily. Her head hurt and she was still upset, for no reason she was willing to admit, about finding Pansy in Draco's house and then learning that she was his lover. 'If he's too thick to guess that, then he doesn't deserve to know.'

"Nothing is wrong, Malfoy," she said in a convincingly normal tone. "Now what do you want for dinner?"

He raised an eyebrow at her, but asked no more questions. They decided upon shepherd's pie and supped in an uncomfortable and tense silence. They finished and Hermione glanced at the clock.

"8:00 p.m." she said. "Now what?"

"We wait," said Draco.

And so they did.

XOX

Draco was lounging on the couch and Hermione was curled up on a massive armchair. Both were immersed in books. The yellow light thrown on them by the lamps gave each of them an ethereal and glowing aura. Suddenly, the slightly ominous tolling of a clock broke the silence. At the same time, they looked up at the clock and turned to regard each other.

"Midnight," Hermione said, staring at him. Draco noticed there was a bit of concern in her eyes and, more predominantly, excitement.

"Let's go," he said simply.

They abandoned their books and readied themselves. Draco dressed in dark clothes, making it easier for him to blend into the shadows while he waited for Hermione outside the Ministry doors. She opted for tight-fitting attire that would not make as much noise as she moved. The clothes hugged her every curve and Draco had to really work to restrain himself from staring.

Within ten minutes, they were ready. Hermione slipped her wand up her sleeve; Draco's was in his pocket.

"You know where you're going, right?" she asked.

Draco gave her a look that seemed to say, "Duh."

"Just making sure," she said defensively. "See you there then."

XOX

She Disapparated from her house and landed outside the guest's entrance to the Ministry of Magic. Since Draco was along, she could not Apparate to her normal entrance. He appeared right next to her a few moments later. Hermione told him the code in the unlikely event that something went wrong.

She looked at him and him at her. Awkwardly, he said, "Good luck, Granger. And be careful, alright? I don't want to have to go through the effort of saving your life."

Hermione rolled her eyes at him, but knew that coming from Draco, this was as good as she would get. With a secret smile, she turned and stepped into the telephone booth. She dialed the code into the phone and heard the familiar voice of the woman, asking her name and her business. She always felt slightly silly stating her name and purpose to no one, but, as usual, it worked. The phone booth descended into the ground, stopping when she reached the polished wood floor of the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic.

Deciding against the elevators due to the noise it would cause, Hermione took a pinch of Floo Powder and said, "Research department!"

She spun through the chimney system quickly, blurred grates passing before her eyes. One of her elbows nicked the side of the chimney; she tucked them more securely at her sides. She spotted her exit grate and strolled out of the hearth, nonchalantly wiping soot and ashes from her clothes, face, and hair.

Her office was pitch black. "Lumos," she whispered. Now, it was faintly illuminated by her wand light. Shadows danced as she quickly walked over to Edgar's desk. She hoped the file would be somewhere out in the open. It was not.

She made a noise of frustration and moved over to the file cabinets. She opened the cabinet and almost threw her wand across the room in anger. It was a mess. Files were scattered everywhere. Only a few were alphabetically organized, the rest were just sitting around. A whole stack of them fell to the floor with a papery whoosh.

"This is what happens when a man is put in charge of organization," she said quietly, mentally noting that she was going to take care of this from now on. Hermione sighed and started going through the hundreds of files piled in the cabinet.

'It was a fairly recent file, so it should be near the top,' Hermione reasoned. But as she delved deeper and deeper, she was not having any luck with her search. As each minute passed, she became more and more frantic. She had already been searching for much too long and feared that she would see Draco's Patronus glide through the door at any minute.

Hermione was about to give up when she reached the bottom of the pile. Then she saw it. There, innocently sitting at the very bottom of the pack, sat the file. The red ink of "Entropy" glared back up at her from her wand light, casting a bloody shadow across Hermione's face. She smiled in triumph and grabbed the file.

"Got it!" she said into the darkness. She clutched the file to her chest and was tempted to wave her wand at the mess. She realized, though, that a clean cupboard where once a filthy one existed would be intensely suspicious. Hermione decided to deal with the mess on Monday.

'That was a bit more difficult than I thought it would be. And why the hell was the file all the way at the bottom?' she wondered as she walked to the door. 'But at least I didn't have any trouble.'

Suddenly, Hermione was hit by a spell from behind. Her wand flew out of her hand and she fell to the floor, as much for her own protection as for retrieving her wand. She turned over just in time to see another jet of light streak directly above her, exactly where her back would have been just moments before.

'Shit, not again,' she cursed silently.

She heard the footsteps of her attacker approach her quickly. Hermione got to her knees and scuttled towards her wand. It was just a few inches away from her fingertips when her attacker's hand gripped the back of her shirt. He jerked her backwards and flipped her onto her back.

"Well, just what are you doing here this late at night, _Hermione_?" asked a very familiar, nasal voice.

"Edgar," she wheezed; he was sitting on her chest, much like Pansy had done, except restricting her air intake. This time, though, both of her arms were free. One was currently holding the file, the other desperately reaching for her wand.

Edgar snatched the file from Hermione's hands. "Now, now. What ever could you be planning to do with this?" He taunted her with the file, waving it in front of her face.

'Just a few more inches,' Hermione thought, struggling to acquire the one object with which she could defend herself.

"Edgar, please, get off me and give me the file. It's important," she pleaded.

"Oh yes, I know it's important. I didn't even have to open it to know that. You know, that file _was_ originally meant for you. The office head thought it would be best if the most thorough researcher on the team received it. Good thing I intercepted it. I wouldn't have wanted _you_ to have known what I know."

Hermione stopped struggling for an instant. "But you said you didn't even open the file. How could you have known what was in it?"

Edgar's eyes widened, apparently realizing his mistake. "The world is full of _secrets_, Hermione. And that is one you shall never discover."

Venom laced his voice and Hermione grew frightened once more. 'I need to reason with him,' she thought. 'I need him off me. And I need my wand!'

"Edgar, please, get off me," Hermione started to beg. "Please, I promise I'll leave quietly and I swear not to mention anything to anyone about tonight. Just let me go."

He completely ignored her request and instead threw the file to the side. Leaning his head down close to hers, he hissed, "You know Hermione, I always thought you were…_attractive_."

Her brown eyes widened with fear at the statement. She did not want to hear what he was going to say next.

"And now that I've got you and you are a little, well, _incapacitated_, I think I may just have a chance with you."

She felt his interest start to harden against stomach. For the first time, Hermione was afraid. Knowing that Edgar was well beyond reasoning now, she started to scream for help.

"Silencio," he said and Hermione's scream muted completely. Fire blazed behind her eyes as she started to physically fight Edgar. Her small fists pounded anything they could hit but they did not seem to make a difference. He leered at her and bent down his head, trying to capture her lips. Hermione twisted her head out of the way, but not before getting a whiff of the very strong alcohol that coated his breath like a layer of paint.

He started to rake at her shirt, clumsily trying to lift it over her head while simultaneously pinning it down with his body. Edgar lifted his body up off hers a bit.

'Now is my chance,' she thought. Hermione jolted her knee up into Edgar's groin, stilling him for a moment. She rolled slightly to her side and seized her wand. She thought the counter-jinx for the Silencio spell Edgar used against her and at one regained the use of her vocal chords.

Her victory was short lived, however. Before Hermione's knee to the groin, Edgar was just interested in pleasure. Now, he was interested in her pain. He succeeded in lifting up her shirt and exposed her bra-clad breasts to the night air. He violently groped and pinched her. She screamed in pain and fear.

'I need help,' she thought. 'Malfoy!' She tried to think of a happy memory, but none came. All she saw was Edgar attacking her, what might happen if he succeeded images of a dead Harry, flashes of a broken Ron. Then, a thought came to her that had never happened before: she saw Draco bursting through the doors of her office, stopping Edgar, and rescuing her. She saw him saving her life.

She then felt the power she needed well up inside of her. "Expecto Patronum!" she yelled. A translucent otter materialized from the end of her wand and darted out of the room and presumably to Draco.

'He had better make it in time,' Hermione thought.

"What the hell was that, you bitch?" Edgar yelled and slapped her face. Not for the first time that day, stars flew before Hermione's eyes. She struggled to remain conscious, knowing that if she lost her awareness, she could also lose her life.


	11. Chapter 11

Author's Note: So, they have the file! I wonder what will happen next... :-) Read, review, and enjoy!!

The Morning After

'Where is that stupid girl?' thought Draco. 'She's been in there for over an hour; that's more than enough time to grab a file and go!' He ran a hand through his hair and looked up impatiently at the black night sky. 'That's enough, I'm going in.' He walked determinately towards the phone booth but stopped with one foot in the door.

'No, wait. What if I go in and she has encountered someone? I could endanger the whole operation. It's better for me to wait out here.' He walked back over to his place in the shadows, unconsciously chewing on his thumb.

'What if she's in trouble, though? I need that file!' Halfway to the booth, he stopped and turned around again. He probably looked crazy, constantly stepping towards and away from the booth, as if he was a dog on a leash. His usually decisive behavior was on the fritz, and it was distracting and frustrating to him. He ran his fingers through his hair once more and sighed.

'If she's in trouble, she'll send her Patronus,' he reasoned, moving back towards the shadows.

At that exact moment, he saw a pearly white otter charge through the wall of the Ministry. It wafted around his head for a moment and evaporated with a nearly-silent poof. Draco needed no more prodding. He launched himself into the phone booth and swiftly punched in the numbers, swearing as his clumsy fingers missed the numbers. Once the elevator was at the Atrium, Draco took off at a sprint towards the fireplaces. A handful of Floo Powder and a couple grates later, Draco launched out of the chimney.

What he saw almost made him sick. Hermione was pinned on the floor by a heavy-looking man who was violating her body, or at least, trying to. Hermione was putting up quite a fight, screaming and kicking and writhing underneath him, desperately attempting to escape. A hard feeling gripped Draco's heart. Rage exploded from within as he aimed his wand.

"_STUPEFY_!" His aim was true as a shaft of red light exploded from his wand tip. The man flew backwards from the force of Draco's spell. He heard a sick crunch as the man smacked against the wall and thought he felt the floor shake from the impact.

For a moment, Hermione was silent from the shock. Traumatized, she pulled down her shirt and sat up. She looked at Edgar and back at Draco, who was standing like a god with his wand at the ready and a fierce expression upon his face. She burst into tears of relief and hot embarrassment. She sobbed into her arm on the floor.

Draco walked up to her and knelt down beside Hermione's crying form. He put one arm around her body and lifted her to her feet, for she seemed quite unable to stand on her own. She leaned onto his chest and continued crying, her tears wetting Draco's shirt. Her entire body was violently shaking, her teeth chattering despite the warmth of his body against hers. He kept his arm around her, as much to keep her up as to comfort her.

As Draco held her, he noticed something that he hadn't before: Hermione seemed to _fit_ into his arms, like they were matching pieces to a puzzle. Draco felt comfortable holding her, like his arms were at last where they should be. He had been with other women of course, but none ever gave him that particular feeling of completeness. He frowned at the thought, guessing at what it meant and not knowing if he liked the answer.

It seemed like he held her for hours, but he knew it was probably only mere minutes. Precious minutes they needed for escape. Draco knew that Hermione was in a fragile state, but their window of escape grew smaller with each passing moment.

"Hermione, we have to go. It's all over now," he said absently stroking her hair. "Shh, it's alright. I'm here, Hermione. I'm here," he comforted her. Miraculously, she stopped crying. She looked up at him with red eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

She gave him a watery smile and said quietly, "Thank you."

He said nothing, just softly smiled in return. He reached down, breaking eye contact with Hermione. He picked up the folder on the floor.

"Let's go," he said. She Flooed out of her office first, happy to be leaving and no doubt considering a break from her job for a while.

Before he followed, Draco walked over to a now rousing Edgar. The stupefied man blearily looked up and gave him a disgusting, lecherous smile.

"Have fun getting a poke out of that tart, mate," he said, as if Draco was somehow in on Edgar's sick idea of a good time.

Draco furiously kicked him in the stomach, causing the man to double up in pain and groan. An evil smirk crossed his face as he pointed his wand at Edgar's head.

"_Oblivio_," he hissed. A vacant look crossed Edgar's face and he remembered no more.

Draco gave the expressionless man on the floor a smug smile and kicked him once more. Satisfied now, he walked into the fireplace and out of the Ministry.

XOX

Hermione Apparated home. Draco appeared soon after her. He placed the file on her kitchen table and looked at her. She was staring intently at the file, but had a far-off look in her eyes. She was still shaking.

"We'll open it tomorrow, Granger." She started at the cold sound of her last name. "You need to sleep now. Come on."

Draco walked to Hermione's room before her, hoping she was following him. He opened the door for her and watched her walk zombie-like into the room. She crossed the threshold of the door and turned around. Her eyes met Draco's. She opened her mouth to say something, not sure about what was going to pass by her lips, when Draco cut her off.

"Go to sleep."

She looked down at the floor and back up at him, tears once more threatening to spill over, and shut the door.

Of all the feelings that had coursed through Hermione's body that night, apprehension, fear, shock, rage, sadness, and hopelessness, none was so strong as her feeling of confusion. After Draco's cold response at her door, silent tears trickled down her cheeks, soaking into the cloth of her pillowcase.

'He used my first name. Did he mean to?' she wiped a tear from her chin. 'Probably not, but he still used it. What does that mean? Never once has he used my name. Tonight, he used it twice. That has got to mean something. Maybe he has changed?' She gave a soft chuckle through her tears. 'Ha, Malfoy change. That's funny.'

But as she thought about it, the more the idea appealed to her. Tonight, he had saved her life. Before, he may not have given her a second glance, or perhaps even killed her himself. He comforted her instead of hurrying her out of the Ministry. And Hermione was not so traumatized that she failed to notice the weird feeling she got when she was in Draco's arms. It was the strangest feeling of completeness, a feeling that she had not experienced since The War.

Reluctantly, Hermione shoved Draco from her mind and concentrated on what happened at the Ministry. She shuddered at the thought of Edgar and now understood why he was sent to _her_ department to work with books instead of people. She curled up into a ball and was more than ready to spend the entire night sleepless and sobbing. But ever the researcher, Hermione stopped her tears and pushed her emotions away. She struggled to remain objective. What Hermione wanted to understand was his behavior with the file. Edgar knew something about Entropy.

'But what?' Hermione thought.

This question echoed through her mind as she drifted to a turbulent sleep. She often woke up sweating or crying, reliving the previous night in the dark recesses of her mind, but never forgetting the one who saved her in the end.

XOX

Draco woke up for the fifth time that night, shaking. He kept having the same dream.

'Or actually,' he corrected himself while staring up at the ceiling, 'the same memory.'

What happened at the Ministry was fresh in his mind and Draco doubted it would ever truly leave him. He would never forget the sound of Hermione's thrashing against the beast of a man atop her. He would never forget the way she sat up and curled into herself, sobbing into her arms on the floor, once Draco had blasted the man off her. He would never forget the look in her eyes, one of infinite happiness and gratitude and some other emotion that was not quite recognizable, when Draco held her.

'I said her name tonight,' he thought. 'For the first time in my life, I said her name. Twice. I wonder if she caught that. Probably not. It was just a slip anyways. I didn't mean to say it, it just sort of happened.'

"Hermione," he whispered into the air.

'See, I did it again. No big deal,' he rationalized.

But deep in his being, Draco knew it was a big deal. He liked the sound of her name when it rolled off his tongue. It was interesting and new, with each letter getting its turn in the limelight.

He said her name again and, feeling strangely content, fell into the world of sleep and did not wake until the morning.

XOX

Hermione went through her usual morning routine and was not surprised to see Draco already standing in her kitchen, tea in hand. She looked at him, feeling a bit awkward.

'No, this will only be awkward if I make it that way,' she thought. She resolved to act normally, as if nothing out of the ordinary had passed. 'That's how everyone best deals with the past, right? They forget. Or, at least, act like they do.'

And with that bit of melancholy and a new streak of determination for the day, she started to talk to Draco.

"Did you sleep well?"

"No," he said, fully concentrating on stirring his tea. Hermione raised her eyebrows at his honesty and reached for a teacup. Pouring herself some of the steaming brew, she went to the table and took a seat across from him. Her glance fell to the table, or more accurately, the thin file on top of the table. She felt his eyes upon her as she stretched her arm out to grab the file. She stopped mid-grab and met his stare.

'Fine,' she thought. 'If he's still going to act weird, then I'll just have to confront the subject.'

"What?" she questioned Draco. "Certainly you didn't think that I wouldn't want to help you anymore. That would be ridiculous," she said sarcastically. "Now get yourself back together; we have some reading to do." She said this in a stronger tone than she meant, but let it hang in the air anyways. She snatched the file towards her, not regretting her words, but instead her inability to see the look on Draco's face.

XOX

Draco was gaping at what Hermione had just said. He was not sure what to expect this morning and indeed, spent his entire shower playing several scenarios out in his head. Of all the possibilities, the one just acted was the one he was least expecting. He marveled at her ability to bounce back and concentrate on what was important. 'She _is_ a Gryffindor,' he thought to himself with a smirk.

"How about we go to the living room to look at this?" Draco offered. She looked up at him. "We'll have more room to work there," he explained. "And it's more comfortable."

She shrugged her consent. Hermione walked into the living room and Draco followed her. She took a seat on the couch across from the table.

XOX

She smiled as she felt Draco lower himself into the seat next to her. Hermione turned her head to his, finding his eyes already at her own. Their steely color, swirling like molten metal with different emotions, only strengthened Hermione's resolve to help Draco out of whatever trouble had befallen him.

XOX

'Damn, her eyes are beautiful,' Draco thought as he gazed into her chocolate depths.

"You ready?" she asked him. He could feel the strength behind her words.

"Yes," he answered steadily.

Draco heard Hermione take a deep breath and watched as her fingers lifted the edges of the file. Its secrets would finally be revealed to them both.


	12. Chapter 12

Rash Words

Hermione was not sure what to expect when she opened the file. She was intensely excited. Draco was too; she could feel the energy radiating off him. Her emotion was silly, however, as the inside of the file looked just like all the others she worked on at her office, except perhaps a bit thinner.

"There's not a lot here," Hermione said, stating the obvious. "We'll just have to make do with what we have." Draco grunted his agreement. They then pored over the bits of parchment onto which were scribbled clues to what Entropy was about.

XOX

For three hours, he and Hermione did not move. They concentrated all of their energy into reading and re-reading the documents contained in the file. Draco had conjured up a roll of parchment and a quill about two minutes into their research, as did Hermione. They each took notes and jotted down questions, hypotheses, and links concerning Draco and Entropy. Not a word was spoken except for the occasional "Oh!"s of surprise and the "Hmm…"s of thought.

Draco's pieces of parchment were twisting webs of black ink, still shining wetly in some places. Names, dates, and places were all inscribed, some with little asterisks near their names. These special nouns had entire rolls of parchment dedicated to them, offering further explanations and much-needed rationale. Draco looked over the rolls that he wrote and placed his quill down on the table. He sighed as he sat back on the couch and stretched his tense muscles.

Hermione soon did the same. He watched her sit back on the couch and reach her arms up, making her ink-stained fingers meet above her head. She closed her eyes and groaned, twisting her fit body. Her blue shirt rose a bit above her navel, exposing her lean stomach, which was slightly paler than the rest of her from the lack of exposure to the elements. Draco felt his stomach drop uncomfortably at this sight and stood up quickly. His knees cracked at the sudden movement.

Hermione opened her eyes and looked up at him, arms still above her head and smooth midriff still uncovered. Draco tried to keep his eyes trained on hers, resisting the urge to look at her body and wonder what her skin would feel like under the gentle caress of his fingers.

"How about lunch?" he offered, his voice cracking slightly.

XOX

Hermione smiled at his offer and nodded. She finished her stretch and followed him into the kitchen.

'Malfoy doesn't have such a bad figure,' she thought randomly, staring at his form while he busied himself at the counter. He always dressed sharply and seemed to instinctively know what looked good on him. Today it was a pair of low-sitting jeans and a partly opened black button down shirt. Hermione could not figure out why she was now looking at him differently.

'He's not the same boy he was at school,' she thought, recalling his actions last night and his civility today. 'Perhaps he has changed,' she thought with a small smile.

Her smile quickly disappeared and she blushed a bit as she realized just who she was checking out and exactly why she wanted to feel his fingers on her skin. Like she had been doing more and more as of late, Hermione shoved the heretic thoughts from her mind. Quickly, she stepped into the kitchen and towards the counter to help him prepare their lunch.

XOX

They ate their sandwiches in relative silence, honoring an unspoken pact not to speak of the file until after lunch. Hermione cleaned up as Draco waited for her at the kitchen door.

'I have to stop looking at her,' Draco thought, still staring her from behind. For some reason today, he could not keep his eyes off her. She looked the same as any other day: her curly hair pulled back off her neck, a t-shirt, jeans. But something in his perception of her had changed. She was no longer the know-it-all bushy haired Mudblood he knew in school.

'She's different somehow,' he thought. Then something struck him. 'She's _vulnerable_. At Hogwarts, she was always independent, never really needing help. But now, after yesterday…' He sighed at the memory, an involuntary shudder running over his frame. 'She's not as strong as I once thought. She's more _dependent_ now. _That's_ the difference,' he smiled, 'and it's not all that bad.'

He was shaken back to reality by her sudden appearance directly in front of him. She smiled up at him, flashing her straight white teeth and asked, "Ready to continue?"

He led the way back to the living room, taking his original seat on the couch.

XOX

Hermione did not take a seat next to Draco. Instead, she remained standing and conjured up a Muggle white board with several different colored markers with which to write. Draco looked puzzled and was about to ask a question when Hermione started to talk.

"Alright, let's first make sure we have the facts straight. We're dealing with a cult called Entropy." She wrote the name on the board in big red letters and underlined it.

"The name itself says something about the group. A German physicist named Rudolph Clausius came up with the word in 1868; it is the measure of the disorder of a system. From this, we can infer that the group Entropy does not necessarily _measure_ disorder as much as _create_ it. And from further reading, we can see that this is a correct assumption. Even though there were only a few, early cases of convicted Muggle-baiting, there is always the possibility of unreported crimes. I'm almost certain that there are.

"The cult is relatively new, coming into public eye about six years ago, or one year after the fall of Voldemort." Hermione noticed that Draco did not flinch when the Voldemort's name was mentioned. She continued. "Why this cult was started, then, is pure conjecture. But I think that they formed in response to his fall."

"I agree," said Draco, piping up for the first time since Hermione started. "I suspect that the remnants of Lord Voldemort's followers found each other and started to communicate. It would only make sense that they would want to band together somehow, but they had to do it secretly. So they formed a cult."

"From what the file said," Hermione continued from his thoughts, "it was simply a cult at first, performing the usual cult activities like the Muggle-baiting and such. But about a year after it started, something changed in the cult's ideals."

"The cult was just a few people at first, just the last ones who remained loyal to him. Then they started to recruit," Draco stated.

"But recruit who?" asked Hermione, flipping through her notes.

"Anyone," answered Draco. "Gullible witches and wizards, Muggles, half-breeds…whoever they could get. They needed more support. But why?"

"Why Muggles is what I want to know," Hermione said. "The Death Eaters _hated_ Muggles. I can't imagine why they'd take a liking to them after Voldemort's fall...And what does it have to do with you?" Hermione reminded him. "Surely you…" Her face suddenly fell and she broke off, looking extremely uncomfortable.

"What?" asked Draco, suspicious of Hermione's sudden change of behavior. He arched a pale eyebrow and gave her a quizzical look.

"This all could be a lie," she said slowly and quietly. "You could be lying. About everything," she said, just now realizing the mistake she could have made.

"What are you talking about, Granger?" Draco was getting angry now, and it was showing in his voice.

"What if this is all a set up?" she continued, her thoughts gathering steam. "What if you coming to my door a month ago was the first step in some plot, some twisted scheme, to get in with the Ministry? What if you really are the leader of Entropy and are just stringing me along, trying to get something out of me?" Hermione was becoming a bit frantic now, her voice rising and her words coming out of her mouth faster. She spoke before she could think of the meaning behind the words. "It could all be a lie. And I trusted you. You could be working for Entropy. You could be trying to kill me! You could-"

"Granger!" Draco yelled. He stood up and marched towards her. He took her forearms in his hands and held her fast. "This is ridiculous. Do you truly think that I would have gone through all that trouble just to get something out of you? Do you honestly think that I entered your house knowingly, that I have an ulterior motive? After yesterday, after last night…after all that, you still don't trust me?" he said incredulously. "If I wanted you dead, I would have killed you a while ago. No, Granger. I am not working for Entropy nor am I trying to get you killed. So get that out of your addled head."

"How do you I know you're not lying?" she questioned, her hysteria stifled somewhat, but nowhere near quelled. "How do I know that you still aren't loyal to Voldemort?" she said with an accusing glare.

The effect of that one allegation was instantaneous. Draco's visage fell from one of outrage to one of disbelief and sadness. He let loose her arms, letting his own fall to his side. He sneered at her, disgusted, and his eyes held a dangerous mixture of malice and sadness, topped off with long forgotten memories rising to the surface.

"You dare accuse me of _still_ being loyal to Voldemort? How do you know I was ever loyal to him in the first place?" he said calmly. He yanked up the sleeve of his shirt and showed her the inside of his arm.

It was bare.

"Bare. Do you see? Unmarked. You know full well that when Voldemort was defeated the Dark Mark permanently remained on the skin of his followers. There is nothing there, Granger. _Nothing_."

Hermione gasped and blushed red with shame at her faux pas. She started to stutter an apology. "I-I just thought, that, well, be-because of your, your father you would have join-"

Draco yelled in frustration and rage. "_My father_," he spat. "My father tortured me in ways that you could not imagine, Granger! I hate my father! He deserved what fate dealt to him in the end and I have no regrets, _none_, about not joining with him and the other Death Eaters. Do you even know what happened to me after that? I was _disowned_, Granger. My whole fortune, my whole _life_, was taken away from me because I made that choice. So do not make the mistake of thinking that your life was the only one negatively affected by Voldemort. Do not make the mistake of assuming you know me, because you do not. You know _nothing_ of my life, Granger. _Nothing_."

With one final malice-filled look at Hermione, Draco turned and walked out of Hermione's front door, slamming it shut so hard that a picture frame came crashing off the wall, splintering into countless glass shards on the wood floor.


	13. Chapter 13

Author's Note: Yeah, you people know the deal by now. Rejoice, read, review. :)

Two Steps Forward, One Step Back

Hermione stood rooted to the spot, her mouth open, horrified at what had just passed. She had just insulted Draco worse than he had ever insulted her. Of all the names he'd called her and all the torture he had put her through at school, nothing, _ever_, could compare to Hermione's slur.

Her body coursed hot with shame and embarrassment. She buried her face in her hands, almost beginning to cry. Until then, he had not given her even the slightest reason to mistrust him. Once he had, she pounced on it, 'More for my own protection than anything else,' she rationalized despondently. Hermione did not want to get tricked or cheated or hurt. Trusting Draco raised all these possibilities and one more: if she trusted him, then she would have to admit to herself that her feelings towards him had changed.

'Have they?' she thought, raising her head from her hands. Her eyes fixed onto the pieces of glass near the door. They looked beautiful with the light reflecting off them, sending rainbow shards of color against the walls. But she knew they could not stay like that. With a quick "_Reparo_," the frame mended and hung itself back onto the wall.

It was strange, her immediate jump to accuse him. She was trusting for the most part, and even more so when people gave her reason to trust. 'And hasn't he given me more than enough reason?' she thought, pocketing her wand and still staring at the door. 'He's saved my life, comforted me, helped me…He's been everything that Harry and Ron were when we were at Hogwarts. He's been…a friend.' Her brown eyes pooled once more at the realization. 'And now he's gone…Who knows what kind of danger he might be in or who he may run into?' Panic struck her heart. 'Does he even have his wand?'

She looked to the table and her questioned was answered: no. She knew Draco was physically strong, but strength could only take him so far against those with magic. This increased her worry tenfold and she started to pace the room.

XOX

It was well into the evening before Hermione stopped pacing and settled down into a living room chair. She fell into a half-sleep, a small part of her mind remaining on the edge of consciousness, alert for a sign that Draco may be home.

At about midnight, she heard the door open. Her brain clicked on and she immediately opened her eyes and stood up. She rushed over to Draco and threw her arms around him, not thinking of anything but the fact that he was back at her house and safe. He stood still for a moment, his shoulders tense beneath her embrace, then shrugged her off apathetically.

"Draco, I was so worried about you," she said, not rebuffed by his pushing her away. "You shouldn't have-"

He cut her off. "Stop it, Granger. Just stop." His voice was drained and there were large, dark circles beneath his red-tinged eyes. He wearily walked across the living room and into his room, gently closing the door.

Hermione followed him there and leaned against his door, hearing the muffled thump of him falling into bed. She knew he would not sleep; at least, not for a while.

'And neither will I,' she thought resolutely. 'I can't. Not until I talk to him.'

So she sat down and leaned her head against the door. The hours ticked by silently on the hall clock. Hermione watched each one of them pass.

At 3 a.m., she no longer heard tossing and turning from within his room. It was then that Hermione decided to take a chance. She rose stiffly, her body aching and joints popping from her uncomfortable seat upon the floor. Silently, she eased open his door. She padded in quietly and knelt next to his sleeping form. His back was turned to her.

"Draco," she said in a whisper. "I know you're asleep, but I fear this is the only way you'll listen to me." True, she did know he was asleep. But all the same, when he did not move at the sound of her voice, she started to cry hot tears of regret and shame. "I'm sorry," she cried into her arm. "I'm so sorry."

She felt him shift and she looked up, unexpectedly locking her eyes with his. Seeing the expression on his face was like witnessing the deaths of all whom she loved: it was one of infinite sadness and misery. He looked betrayed, and Hermione had been the one to stab him in the back and subsequently give the knife a fair twist. Her tears came more rapidly now.

"I'm sorry," she choked between tears.

Draco grabbed her hand, stopping her silent sobs. He slowly brought it to his lips and planted the softest of kisses upon it. It was no more than the brush of a butterfly wing against her skin, but to her it meant the world. He moved over in his bed and pulled her in with him.

Seven years of repressed memories crashed into Hermione's mind. She saw Harry, bloodied and stiff on the battlefield, lying prone next to the world's greatest enemy. She saw Lupin's anguish while holding Tonks in his arms as she passed into death and then him being hit by the Killing Curse not a moment after she died. She saw the misery of the Weasley's as they discovered that Fred and Ginny were dead and witness Ron's breakdown first-hand.

The only thing that pulled her away from these scenes was Draco. She felt his strong arm snake around her shaking frame and hold her close to his body, protecting her from further cruelties of the past.

Her memories soon tapered off, as did her tears. She looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes, searching his steel-gray ones for a sign. He looked at her seriously, his face impassive but his eyes betraying what he was feeling. Without a word being spoken, Hermione knew that she was forgiven.

She was in his arms for the rest of the night, arms which she had previously thought held nothing but violence. Pressing her head against his chest, she heard his steady heartbeat and knew, somehow knew, that he was honest and truthful. She knew he had changed.

XOX

Draco woke up, remembering exactly what happened the night before and the precise reason Hermione was now nestled snugly in his arms. And more importantly, he remembered that he did not mind this arrangement at all. Last night, as terrible as it was to have had his past dragged up to his consciousness once more, was necessary. He had received comfort in Hermione's few words, in her tear-filled eyes, and her warm body against his own. Seven years ago, he would have never thought this possible. He shifted slightly, carefully, as not to wake her. His efforts were in vain, though, as she groggily opened her eyes and met his.

Her lids were still heavy with sleep, but the eyes behind them were alert. He knew that she was eager to discuss the rest of the file and get down to the elusive kernel of truth.

"Good morning," he said with a small smile.

She returned his expression. "We should finish going over the file today," she said.

"Yeah, we should," he replied.

They rose and took turns in the shower, ate breakfast together, and went down to work.

"So, where were we?" Hermione said with a nervous chuckle.

Draco casually smiled and said, "What does Entropy have to do with me?"

"Ah, yes," she said with a nervous smile. "Well, I don't have any ideas. Do you?"

"Not a one," he replied with a shake of his head.

"Then let's go on to what the cult actually does. We know a little bit about their induction tests."

"Right, a veritable gamut of physical, magical, emotional, and mental obstacles. They were tough too. From this we know that their supporters are the best, and therefore dangerous."

"Truly," said Hermione. "The file told us a bit about what went on inside of it as well: a meeting place for displaced followers of Voldemort. Quite honestly, it does not sound all that threatening."

"That's what they _used_ to do," interjected Draco. He pushed the files towards her and pointed towards the bottom of the page. "Look at the year. These files are over five years old. None of this information is current. And from what I saw when I was there, Entropy is no longer just a place for old Death Eaters to meet. It's something more now, something worse."

"Well, what happened at their old meetings may be able to give us a clue as to what they are doing now."

"True, except you read the files just as I did. They contain no more information than what we have. There were only a few reports of Muggle-baiting, and the cases weren't even all that terrible. We have nothing to work with which brings us back to where we started: we need more information."

"We do," she admitted. With a frustrated sigh, she attempted to run her fingers through her bushy hair. "But how?"

Draco gave her a look and a moment later, Hermione understood what he meant.

"Oh no. Nice try, but there's no way you're going to _look_ for trouble from these people. You nearly died twice."

"Au contraire," he said with a cocky grin, "they only shot at me once. The other time, they just tried to catch me."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Because that's _so _much better…" she said sarcastically. "That's even more reason for you not to search these people out. They want you alive for something, and that something cannot be good."

"Then what do you propose we do, Hermione?" he said exasperated, jumping up from the couch and starting to pace around the room.

She paused for a moment, thinking of their next step. "We wait until they make a move. Spies are bound to be sweeping the city for you. So, you go out. You get seen by one of them and they follow you here. Soon after, they're bound to do something. Then, we can go from there."

"I still spot a problem, Hermione. I would be leading them to this house, putting you in equal danger."

"And you don't see me as your equal, Draco?" Hermione questioned with a dangerous edge to her voice.

Draco looked as if he was about to talk, but Hermione cut him off.

"We have no other options. It's this or nothing."

He was silent for a few minutes, obviously still trying to find a different solution to their problem. Thinking of nothing, he acquiesced.

"Fine, I'll start that today then. But you have to have your wand on you at all times. I want you constantly prepared."

Hermione laughed. "'Constant vigilance', eh? Sounds familiar." She fondly remembered her fourth year when Mad-Eye Moody was their teacher. Judging by the angry and embarrassed expression on Draco's face, he remembered Moody too, although not so fondly.

'Apparently, he has not forgotten the bouncing white ferret incident,' Hermione chuckled.

XOX

Draco rolled his eyes at the Moody reference and shrugged off Hermione's gentle teasing. He rose, eager to somehow get in touch with Entropy. He grabbed his wand and headed determinately towards the door. Hermione followed him. He opened it and paused, taking a deep breath, steeling himself to confront the danger he knew was lurking beyond the front porch.

"Hey Draco?"

He looked back at Hermione. She looked up at him meekly, gently, almost a little afraid.

"Be careful," she said softly.

Draco smiled softly at her. The sun played off his platinum blonde hair, creating an aura of light around his head. With soft eyes, he leaned his head down and kissed her gently on the lips. Hermione felt like she was flying. His lips were soft and warm and light. Draco kissed her with tenderness that she would have thought impossible of him to possess while they were in school. Her limbs tingled, her heart raced, her mind soared.

"You too," he said, his warm breath tickling Hermione's mouth. Her eyes glazed over with pleasure and she kissed him this time, with a little more force. She felt his hands snake around her waist and caress her lower back. He broke their kiss and rested his forehead upon hers. "At this rate, Entropy will never find me," he whispered into her mouth.

"Don't be so sure of that," said a heated voice behind Draco. "_Stupefy_!" it shouted. Draco stiffened, then collapsed at Hermione's feet.

Hermione screamed and dodged a jet of red light as she ducked into her house for her wand. No sooner had she grabbed it off the table and whirled around than she was hit in the chest with the stunning spell. Blackness encroached upon Hermione's world and she experienced a falling sensation. She felt pain in her head as she hit the floor. A second later, Hermione's senses failed her. She felt no more.


	14. Chapter 14

Author's Note: Yeah...enjoy!!

Inside

Hermione regained consciousness slowly, the first sense that returned to her being that of touch. She felt cool metal underneath her face and her back was up against what felt like bars. Her arm was twisted into an uncomfortable position above her head. When she tried to move it, she nearly cried out. The joint was stiff and unwilling to bend, sending a sharp jolt of pain through her body. She slowly loosened the limb, pins and needles spiking into her muscles with tiny, biting pricks. After a few minutes, she was able to move it with minimal pain. Next to her, she felt something shift.

Hermione, whose panic had just started to increase now that she had regained consciousness, spiked. 'What the hell was that?' She scrambled as close to the edge of the cage as she could, striving to stay away from whatever it was in the cage with her.

Hearing and smell came at about the same time. An unpleasant grating sound of metal upon metal tore at her ears and gave her goose bumps. A clink of chains, the raspy wheeze of someone below her, the screechy voice of a woman directing the chaos...All these sounds were faint, though, as if Hermione was hearing it through earmuffs in a separate room.

The first thing she smelled was sweat: her own, whoever's was with her, and possibly those around her. It was a bitter smell, causing her to crinkle her nose in distaste. She smelled something else as well, something pungent.

'Sulfur?' she guessed.

Finally, she gained control of her vision. She weakly lifted her eyelids, eager yet simultaneously afraid to see just where she was. Turns out that sight did her little good: the room was dark as pitch.

Hermione moved around as much as she could, her aim to loosen her limbs in case of a possible escape route. The small cage was cramped and she did not want to touch the thing who was in there with her. She tried to stand, but made the mistake of putting her hand on something warm and fleshy. She gave a yelp of surprise and fell down with a clang. Her yell of surprise was quickly stifled by a warm hand coming across her mouth.

"Shhh," came a familiar voice from the darkness. "Hermione, shhh, it's alright. It's me."

The hand lifted from her mouth, allowing her to speak. "Draco!" She abandoned her grip on his arm and threw herself on him blindly. He wrapped his arms around her and held her, rocking her slightly, steadying her shaking frame.

"Where are we?" she whispered into his neck.

"Where do you think? We're inside Entropy," he told her with a tone of obviousness. Memories of what had happened came rushing back to her and she gasped as she realized what their capture might mean. He untangled himself from her embrace and pushed her away slightly. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?" he asked, hands cupped on either side of her face.

"No, I'm not hurt. Are you?"

"I'm fine."

She heard him sigh and felt his body relax only slightly.

"What do they want with us?" she asked rhetorically.

Draco just shushed her and said, "Listen."

So Hermione did. But as before, she could not hear very well: the voices were far off and muffled, often drowned out by the back-ground noise of scraping chains and grinding metal. After a few minutes of hearing nothing but mumbles, Hermione wondered quietly, "Why is it so warm in here?"

As if her musing was a trigger, the cage holding Hermione and Draco started to move forward.

"What did you do?" hissed Draco, turning to her. If she could see, Hermione was sure his look would be accusing.

"Nothing! I did nothing!" she defended with an equally hard, but unseen, look back.

Suddenly, the cage emerged from the darkness into a blinding light. Hermione threw her arm up over her eyes and winced at the sudden change. She heard Draco hiss as he reacted the same way. She tried to refocus her eyes quickly. Once she did, Hermione was allowed her first look around Entropy.

Hermione's first thought was one of Hell. The place was crowded and dirty. Fire shot up towards the high, slightly domes ceiling. It was streaming out of torches that were hung on grimy, black walls. An unknown substance dripped down them, congealing into little puddles on the floor. Unlike the room where they were being held, this room was rank with the smell of algae and mold in addition to the sweat, sulfur, and all-around stench that 100 bodies could produce when clumped together.

The cage scraped over the ground and the puddles, making a harsh screeching sound akin to nails on a chalkboard and splashing some of the unknown substance upon Hermione and Draco's faces. A fleck of the matter landed itself inside of her mouth and she spat furiously to remove it. Her mouth contorted into a grimace at its earthy taste. Although it was not the appropriate time for humor of any kind, she could not help but think that, if she should ever escape, her first stop would be St. Mungo's.

The area through which they were moving was swarming with people. They were everywhere, crowding the floors and being knocked roughly out of the way by the moving cage. Some were dressed in nothing but rags; attire not fit for the lowest of house elves.

'Perhaps those are the Muggles,' Hermione thought. She remembered the report from the Ministry of Magic and shuddered. She pitied the people who had somehow ensnared themselves into this cult, and wondered what the wizards were going to do to them.

'Surely the followers of Voldemort will not allow the Muggles to live.' She looked around. 'Or perhaps they will,' she corrected herself, seeing the sorry state in which they were treated. 'It looks like they are being used as slaves.'

Indeed, most of the poorly-attired people were busy hauling chains and hammering at stones, being overseen by some of the most terrifying masters Hermione had ever seen. They were highly muscled men, wearing tight, black leather, and wielding whips that cracked harshly over the backs of the workers. She expected to see looks of derision and hate, but instead the abuse was met with suppliant looks of apology and increased haste.

There was an obvious hierarchy, though, as the slave drivers were themselves being overseen. The other people in the room were adorned in long black cloaks with tall hoods and horrifyingly familiar masks.

"Death Eaters," Hermione said quietly. Draco did not respond.

The cage then came to a jarring stop.

"And now, my faithful brethren, behold our salvation!" said the shrieking female voice. Hermione was a bit perturbed by the nature of the voice. It was screechy and loud, and ominously familiar.

A spotlight was cast down upon the cage, further illuminating Hermione and Draco. She squinted in the light and raised her hand to shield her eyes. The din around the cage was enough to drive her mad. A mass of bodies crushed around the enclosure. Dirty people stuck their hands in, tearing at Hermione and Draco. There was no escape from their hostilities. Strong fingers grabbed her clothes, ripping parts of them from her body. One person got a fistful of her hair. With a scream, she tried to pry the fingers from it, partially succeeding. However, she did not work fast enough. The hand gave a mighty yank, tearing out a portion of her hair. Waving the bloody chunk in the air, the fiend was then tackled by the beings around him, eager to get a gory piece for themselves.

The high-pitched voice screeched, "Enough!" The assault instantly stopped.

The mob backed away from the cage and uniformly looked up at the voice. Hermione tried to get a clear look at the woman leader as well, but the cage was at the bottom of a tall obelisk-like formation. She could see nothing but the high, dark, vaulted ceiling. The blood slowly trickling into her eyes did not help, either.

"This is our salvation, my followers. This is what we have been waiting for." A tense silence followed. Then, "The prophecy has been fulfilled!"

An explosion of cheers and the mob encroached upon the cage once more. They were stopped as she started speaking again.

"Stop! Your queen speaks! Seven years ago, the Dark Lord fell. For many, hope was lost. All those who were loyal to our Lord were forced into hiding or captured. That is when we were formed. We are the only group still loyal to the Dark Lord. We are the only ones that still do his bidding. We are the only ones who shall be favored when he makes his glorious return to the flesh. We are the loyal, we are his children, we are _Entropy_!"

The crowd exploded once more. She silenced them.

"We have the tools the prophecy foretold. We have the traitor! We have the Mudblood sacrifice!"

As if upon command, the cage started to rise into the air. Hermione clung to Draco and he to her. They steadied each other as the cage levitated higher and higher. After a seemingly interminable rise, it reached the top of the precipice. Hermione gasped as she saw who the leader was. Draco let out a bellow of rage.

Pansy Parkinson smiled evilly at them through the bars of the cage. She was dressed in a form fitting black dress. Her long nails were painted crimson red to match her lips and her black hair was piled atop her head. She looked every part the devil.

"One day from now," she said with a sadistic grin on her face, "Lord Voldemort shall once more begin his glorious rise to flesh."


	15. Chapter 15

An Explanation and a Plan

Pansy shrieked with high-pitched, cackling laughter, as did her followers. "Now, my minions, prepare for the ceremony!"

A final cheer and a flurry of movement took place below them.

"You," she snapped at a hooded figure near her, "take these two to my chambers. I have important matters to…_discuss_ with them."

"Yes, my queen," the thug obediently replied. With a flick of his wand, the cage moved forward along a narrow strip of rock towards a great pair of rock-hewn doors. They opened with a grinding sound that seemed characteristic of most objects found there. Soon, the cage holding Hermione and Draco was led into a lavishly decorated room. The goon waved his wand again and walked from the room.

Draco did not realize he had been holding onto Hermione's hand. She looked at him with fear in her eyes.

"Draco, what are we going to do?"

"We have to get out of here. I'm the traitor and you're the sacrifice. It isn't sounding good for either of us," Draco said.

"But they have our wands."

Draco thought for a moment. "We need to play along."

"What?" said a disbelieving Hermione. "Are you mad?"

Draco heard the door open. "Just go with it," he whispered.

He turned around to the sound of clicking heels across the rock floor.

"Pansy," he said, standing up in the cage.

"Draco," she purred. She waved her wand and the cage disappeared. Instead, thick chains bound one of Draco's feet to the floor. He saw Hermione try to escape Pansy's notice by crawling away.

"I don't think so, Mudblood." She shot a hex at Hermione which hit her in the stomach. She stopped and doubled over in pain as Draco saw a red stain seep through her shirt. Chains then appeared from the floor, binding her foot as well.

Pansy turned her attention back to Draco. "I wondered when I would be able to catch you. I must admit, it was a bit harder than I imagined it would be. The first time you broke into our facility, you were gone before we could realize who you were. The second time, you were simply too quick for us."

"You knew I was good," Draco said with a smirk.

"You flatter yourself, Draco, darling," she said. "We were sure you would return to your house, so I had spies posted around the premise. But the only day we had any activity, it just ended up being Granger. Of course, _you_ remember that day," Pansy spat at Hermione. "You bested me then, but alas, you will never best me again. When I failed to return, Edgar came looking for me and unfroze me. But seeing you there told me something, Granger. Seeing you there was what led us to suspect that Draco was being held at _your_ filthy residence," she said with a smug smile. Hermione's face was set in a grim cast.

"And Draco, imagine my surprise when I learned that when we _did_ successfully capture you, it was during an embrace with this _thing_." She sharply slapped Draco across the face, the sound echoing off the walls of the bed chamber. "I was the best you ever had, and you know it," she whispered to him loud enough so that Hermione could still hear. The bleeding girl on the floor reddened and looked down.

"But, I am prepared to forgive your little _indiscretion_, Draco," she said, roughly cupping his face in her hands, "because now, I have her as well. That oaf Edgar was supposed to bring her in, but I should have known a fool like him was worth nothing."

XOX

Hermione gasped in surprise, immediately regretting it because of the sharp pain in her side. 'All the pieces fit into place,' she realized too late. 'Edgar was a part of Entropy. That's why he was in my department: to get to me!'

"And what of Edgar?" Hermione asked. She did not care about the fate of the man, but was curious to know about the lengths Pansy would go.

"Did I say you could speak, Mudblood?" She paused for a moment before answering. "But for your information, we disposed of him soon after we learned his mind had been Obliterated. He could be of no further use to us. And you, Granger, shall suffer the same fate."

"What do you want with us, Pansy?" asked Draco in a strong voice. Hermione was unsure if the strength of his voice was really the strength he felt within him.

"Oh Draco, weren't you listening?" she chuckled, stroking his cheek with one long-nailed, red painted, finger. "We're going to kill the Mudblood and _you_ are going to help the Dark Lord return to power."

"How?"

"By becoming my king, of course. Then, we shall have a son. The consummation of our marriage, combined with a special ritual we have in place involving _her_, shall ensure that our son will be the reincarnation of Lord Voldemort. That is due to happen one night from now at midnight."

"And if I refuse?"

A sick smile broke out upon her visage. "Oh, there will be none of that, I don't think. Just because we're going to kill her eventually doesn't mean that she can't be near death until that happens. _Crucio_!"

Such pain Hermione never felt. Red hot pokers were being laid across her skin, searing it and sending waves of pain to Hermione's brain. Her insides were writhing; she felt like she was going to be sick. She curled up into a ball and closed her eyes against the tears, refusing to let Pansy see her cry.

"Stop!" she heard Draco shout.

The pain ended as suddenly as it began. Hermione lay limp for a moment on the floor, her breath coming in gasps, relishing the freedom from the pain.

"Fine," she heard him say. "Don't hurt her. I'll put up no resistance."

Hermione wanted to cry out no, but she hadn't the strength to do it. All she could do was turn over and look at Draco.

She saw Pansy lean in and kiss Draco, slowly and deeply, on the mouth. She pressed against Draco's chained body suggestively. Hermione could not watch, but that did not block her hearing. She heard Pansy's saliva-filled mouth, the disgusting smacking and wet noise she made when she kissed him. Unable to hold in her disgust and her pain, Hermione felt her gorge rise.

Pansy broke her embrace at the sound of Hermione's dry heaves. She chuckled at Hermione's discomfort. "That's what I like to hear," she said. She kissed him again and reached down to the front of his pants. She gave him a squeeze and whispered audibly into his ear, "Until later, then." With that, she sauntered out of the room.

XOX

Draco grimaced in disgust as he watched Pansy leave. He then looked at Hermione. Her side was bloodied by the hex Pansy had hit her with and her hair was matted to her sweaty face from the Cruciatus Curse she had just endured. To Draco, she looked beautifully strong. But he could tell her heart was breaking.

"Hermione..." He needed to her to know that what he had with Pansy was over, and that he harbored no feelings towards her except those of utter loathing. But he could not find the words.

"I know, Draco. I understand," she said, her face impassive. He knew she understood what he had to do and why he did it. But he also knew that the coming nights would be the hardest ones either of them would ever have to endure. Knowing the truth would not make it any easier for her to handle.

With this thought in mind, Draco cleared his throat. "We have one day. How do we escape?"

"We need our wands. The chances of us breaking these chains without them are nonexistent, but the chances of us actually _getting_ our wands are even worse," Hermione said weakly. Draco knew she was still suffering the after-effects of the curse.

"She needs to let us go."

"But she won't do that until one day from now. And by then, who knows? It could be too late." Her voice dropped and she looked on the verge of tears.

"Don't think like that, Hermione," he said fiercer than he intended. "Don't ever think like that. We are going to get out of here, alright? I promise you."

She nodded, although he could tell she did not believe him. "What do we do until then?" she asked.

He was silent for a moment, contemplating the answer. Then he said simply, "We wait."

XOX

Pansy came back later in the day, obviously in a foul mood. She walked into the room with a black look upon her face. She sneered at Hermione and Draco, who were still chained to the middle of the floor. She conjured up two cages in the corner of the room, flinging Hermione into one and Draco into the other. From her new vantage point, Hermione was able to see their wands. They were on the nightstand next to Pansy's bed, into which she had just ungracefully flopped down.

She nudged Draco through the bars of her cage and with a flick of her head, showed him what he needed to see. His eyes widened a little with the discovery and she could tell he had the same idea as she did.

"We still have to wait, though," Draco whispered to her through the bars of his cage. "But at least now we have a plan."

"Yes," Hermione said. "Now we have hope."

Draco reached his hand out through the bars. Hermione linked her hand through his, their fingers intertwining.

"We will get out of here," he said reassuringly.

"Shut up!" yelled Pansy from her bed, throwing a book at their cages. It missed by several feet, but Hermione and Draco got the message. They waited until the lights were extinguished and Pansy was loudly snoring before chancing speech again.

"Hermione?" his voice called out tentatively to her cage. "Hermione, are you awake?"

"Yes," she replied steadily. Her voice sounded far off to Draco, like she was distracted.

"How are you feeling?"

"A little weak," she admitted. "But I'll be fine."

"Has everything stopped bleeding?"

"Yes."

They were silent for a moment, when Draco broke the silence with a question that had troubled him since he had arrived at her house.

"What happened between you and Weasley?"

XOX

Hermione's head jerked up from her chest. 'He asked it,' she thought. She was expecting the question. She had even prepared an answer to it, intending to tell him nothing and be done with it. But her mind went blank and the words could not find their way to her lips. She sighed and leaned her head against the cold steel bars.

"I always liked him," she admitted. "We became an official couple at the end of our Sixth Year and went through Seventh Year happily. We were worried, literally sick with fear, but we were happy."

"Did you love him?"

"At that point, I believe I did," she trailed off for a moment, remembering their walks by the lake, him holding her hand in his then suddenly slinging her over his shoulder. His blue eyes flashed mischievously as he threatened to throw her in. She struggled in his arms, convincing him somehow to let her down. Once he did, they looked into each other's eyes and kissed sweetly, gently, warmly, like the late spring weather.

Her eyes filled with tears and she shook her head, dislodging the memory. She continued.

"He hid it well, but he was very concerned for Harry. I was too, but Ron even more so it seemed. I tried to understand the depth of his concern, tried to talk to him about it. I could see something was gnawing at him, but he wouldn't speak. Perhaps if he had…But I'm getting ahead of myself.

"As the end of the year approached and The War had still not broken, Ron got sicker and sicker. He wasn't eating, wasn't sleeping, wasn't laughing…He wasn't himself. I tried...Oh Draco, I tried!" Her voice cracked and tears spilled from her eyes. She buried her head in her arm and sobbed quietly. After a minute, she lifted her head up and sniffed.

"Ron broke when Harry died. He left for two months without a word. No one knows where he went and he never said anything. His family, or what remained of it, nearly died of grief. I sat with them through the whole thing. I was there for them when he wasn't. When he showed up at the door one day, he had a wild look about him. He was gaunt and pale and dirty and…He was frightening. It wasn't Ron anymore. It was…someone else.

"Then he told us that he was going away to play reserve Keeper for Ireland. I begged him not to go. I didn't know him anymore, true, but I wanted to help him. I wanted him to get back to his normal life. But he wouldn't have it. He pushed me away. No matter what I tried, he pushed me away. It hurt more than anything else I had ever felt. He made it quite clear to me that he didn't love me anymore, going so far as to deny he ever did.

"And that's the end. He went to Ireland, I remained in London. I keep in touch with his family and he and I talk only sometimes. But it will never be like it was."

"Too much has changed," Draco said.

"It's not fair and it's not right, but it's true," she admitted, drying the tears that had been steadily streaming down her cheeks. "It's not fair," she whispered.

She heard Draco move and felt his hand reach through the cage bars and settle on her arm. She reached her hand up to his and held it softly. He tightened his grip, which reassured her more than words ever could.


	16. Chapter 16

Preparations

Draco was rudely woken from his uncomfortable sleep by a hysterical Pansy.

"Draco, let go of her hand this instant! You are to be _my _husband and I shall not have you fouled by some dirty-blooded whore!"

He saw Hermione wake as well and immediately dropped her hand. She cowered against the back of cage, narrowly dodging a few hastily aimed hexes from Pansy. She whimpered as one grazed her arm, drawing more blood.

'She's lost so much already,' thought Draco. 'Any more could kill her.'

"Pansy, stop!" he shouted. She did, now rounding on him. "Don't hurt her anymore," he demanded. To his surprise, her face lost its maniacal quality and softened a bit.

"You're right, it would be a shame for her to die of blood loss, especially when we need that filth for the ceremony." Glaring at Hermione, she said, "You got lucky, Mudblood. But wait until tonight. Then you'll get your comeuppance. Now Draco, if you'll excuse me, I believe it is bad luck to see the bride before the wedding." With a wink, she walked out of the room.

"Do you still think we can pull this off, Draco?" Hermione asked, her voice wavering and weak.

He looked at her bleeding form, for the first time seeing her vulnerability. 'I need to be strong,' he thought, 'for her.'

"Yes," he said confidently, reassuring himself as much as Hermione. "Yes, this will work."

'This _has_ to work.'

XOX

The day passed slowly inside of the cages. Hermione was tending to her wounds, which had now stopped bleeding, but still needed to be dressed. Draco helped her as much as he could, ripping off fabric from his shirt as makeshift bandages. He just hoped it would be enough.

Sooner than he anticipated, four burly men came in and released them from their cages. A glimmer of hope ran through Draco's body as he saw Hermione spring out from the cage and dodge the thick arms of one of the men. He was stunned into surprise: after all the blood that she had lost, he was amazed she could still move so quickly.

She got no farther than a few steps, though, when the second man tackled her bodily to the ground. She moaned pitifully beneath the brute of a man and Draco strained at his captor's hold to get to her. It was of no use, however. They started to effortlessly drag Draco away from her. And now, for the first time since they arrived at Entropy, they were being split up. Draco was shoved into a door on the left, which opened to another room.

"Shower and change into these clothes," said the gruff voice of his captor. Draco had barely enough time to catch the garments hurled at him when the door slammed. Draco heard a click, but tried the handle.

'Damn it,' Draco thought. It was locked, exactly as he had expected.

Now certain that he could do nothing to better his situation, Draco did the only thing he could: strip his grimy and torn clothes from his body and turn on the water. As he stepped beneath the hot cascade, his thoughts were of Hermione, and only of her. The almost unbearably hot water ran over his broad shoulders and trickled down his toned back, which he arched cat-like into the feeling. It was as if nimble and insistent fingers were caressing his back, working all the pent-up tension from his muscles.

'Hermione's fingers,' he thought. He could almost feel her soft, warm body behind him, wrapping her arms around his chest. He imagined washing away all her cuts and bruises and holding close her under the steaming water, seeing the mist plume up from behind her, gazing into her soft, brown eyes…

His fantasy ended with a start as Pansy's dog-like face popped into his mind. He remembered, not at all fondly, what was to happen later that night. 'I am to be married,' he thought. 'I am to be married to _Pansy_, of all people. Does that even constitute a marriage?' Then, before he could think twice, "I'd take Hermione over her any day."

He stopped shampooing his hair and stared blankly at the wall, cocking his head in interest. This insight steered his thoughts into a whole different direction. 'Marrying Hermione…' he thought, furrowing his brow slightly. 'Marrying Hermione would not be all that bad…not at all.'

But he knew that despite his reassurances and his determination and his ineffective hope, there was only a slim chance of their escape and survival. The thought of losing her sucked the breath from his chest and drained the blood from his head. He supported himself against the wet porcelain wall, resting his head upon his lean arms, shivering despite the heat.

XOX

Hermione, after being brutally tackled to the ground, watched through tear-filled eyes as Draco was shoved into a room and locked away from her. It was then that she truly started to panic. The men hoisted her up by the arms as if she were nothing but a waif. She weakly struggled against them, but a rough shake quelled any more resistance. Her head throbbed and her chest hurt with each breath.

'I feel so faint,' Hermione thought, beginning to regret her previous hasty escape attempt. 'If I want to get out of here, I have to conserve my energy."

A grand, blood-red curtain opened with a swish. Pansy's room and what she suspected was the room in which the ceremony was to take place were no longer separated. The ceremonial room was large and domed, no doubt arranged for optimal acoustics. A black and roughly cut stone altar was situated in front of about one hundred chairs. Candles floated about the room, casting eerie shadows against the walls and floors.

Hermione swore she saw men lingering in these ill-lit areas. They faded in and out of view so much that she was not even sure they really existed at all. But whenever she did happen to glimpse one, she wished she had not. Each face was contorted into a mangled grimace, with hate-filled eyes staring off into space.

Attempting not to look at the walls, she instead trained her eyes on the black altar. 'This is where they are to be married,' came Hermione's slow realization. She raised her head up, the severity of the truth finally hitting home. 'Draco is going to marry. And he isn't going to marry me.' It suddenly felt like a chunk of her heart had been ripped out. She gasped for breath and resisted the urge to cry.

Movement then caught her attention. Pansy's guards started to filter into the ceremonial room, fiddling with minute details, no doubt fearful of the wrath they would incur if Pansy saw one vile flower out of place. She heard a loud scraping behind her and turned swiftly. Two men were struggling with another, smaller altar and a cauldron. Both were being brought into Pansy's room. Atop the altar was a roll of parchment, a few vials of vicious-looking liquid, two glasses, and a dangerously curved knife. It was placed in front of Pansy's bed, far enough into the room to still be separated by the screen.

Hermione looked at the tools and had another terrifying revelation.

'I am to be killed in front of Draco and Pansy on their wedding night…in front of their bed.' This was too much for Hermione. She felt her gorge rise once more and doubled over as she retched onto the floor. The men holding her up suddenly dropped her, shouting profanities and jumping away from the mess. Hermione heard a cacophony of voices above her, but nothing registered. Her mind was completely numb, unable to fully comprehend exactly the horror she would have to experience tonight. She lay shivering on the floor as a Muggle servant woman cleaned up the vomit next to her.

She was roughly pulled back up and pressed against the smaller altar. Still too stunned to struggle, she barely flinched as heavy chains snaked from the stone and bound her arms tightly to the rough rock. A thick piece of cloth was shoved into her mouth and tied around her head as a gag. Slowly, she saw the auditorium fill with spectators. Soon, all the seats were taken. The aisles were filled as well, with people too late to find a seat but unwilling to miss the event.

'It must be close,' Hermione thought.

No sooner had she thought this than a trumpet sounded. The hall immediately quieted.

Hermione looked around her: dirty stone walls, filthy people, and a fanfare of trumpets. A tear slowly trickled down her cheek, leaving a streak of white through the grime, dirt, and blood. Her final thought was hopeless: 'Is this truly how I am going to die?'


	17. Chapter 17

The Ceremony

Hermione watched the proceedings from the altar to which she was painfully chained. She could feel the stone scraping her back and puncturing her skin, drawing blood. The hot, thick liquid trickled down her back and legs, making her itch. As distracting as this was, Hermione knew she had to keep focused. Although chances were small, and she was continuously alternating between hope and despair, she still resolved to look for any opportunities she may have for escape. She was not about to give up without a fight.

The blare of trumpets ended, which was the queue for the organ to start. The traditional wedding march resounded through the hall. The echoes from the cavern walls distorted the sound, drawing out the notes until they were deep and mournful. The wedding march sounded much more like a funeral hymn. The congregation rose as one, each raptly attentive to the stage. She saw Draco enter the auditorium from a wing to her right.

'For potentially meeting his doom,' Hermione thought wryly, 'he still looks amazing.'

Draco was dressed to the nines in fitted black pants, a button-down black shirt, and a silk, emerald-colored tie. He carried himself with an air of utmost dignity and importance. He acted as if he really was royalty, his head high in the air, looking down his nose at the audience; not at all the attitude of a doomed man. But to show he was frightened or at all intimidated in front of these people would have been a tremendous mistake. Hermione knew that more than a few people here loathed Draco and her both. And while their hatred would be appeased with Hermione's death, Draco becoming king would do nothing to slake their malice.

He turned his head just slightly towards Hermione, meeting her eyes for the first time since they had been separated. For a moment, his haughty visage softened into one of affection and concern. At any other time, his concern would have annoyed her. But Hermione was well aware of how she looked: she was chained to an altar, her clothes now no better than rags, and she was bleeding from several different places…She looked like a mess. Pity was accepted, if not expected. His look lasted only for a moment, though. Draco's commonplace sneer returned as he regarded his bride.

Pansy was wearing a flattering but over-the-top black dress that trailed behind her. Despite her hate for the woman, Hermione had to admit that she looked the part. Even with the flounces, ruffles, and bustles, she still looked like the arrogant and spoiled queen of Entropy. Hermione feared for a moment that Draco would enjoy his marriage to Pansy. Perhaps, upon seeing what he could have, he would abandon her to die.

'After all, they were _lovers_,' she thought with a mixture of disgust and despair. Hermione hoped against all hope that this would not be the case and turned her thoughts away from the ominous and back to the ceremony, which admittedly, was not all that better.

The two came together before the altar where the master of ceremonies was standing. Hermione was surprised: the man conducting the ceremony looked entirely out of place. He was a tall, brittle-looking old wizard, who would do better at home brewing potions than participating in the heinous cult. Despite his frailty, he spoke to the audience with a strong and deep voice. But since he was projecting out, and Hermione was situated almost directly behind him, she could not hear a word he was saying. As if in slow motion, she saw Draco's lips barely move, as well as Pansy's. Rings were exchanged. Pansy kissed him deeply and the crowd erupted into cheers.

Hermione hung her head. If not for the gag in her mouth, she would have screamed. 'He's officially married now,' she thought numbly. She wanted to cry, but knew that crying would be the worst possible action at the moment. 'If these people are going to kill me, I'm going to be strong as they do it. They will _not_ see me break.'

Pansy's voice then rang out across the room, magnified to ten times its screechy quality. She saw Draco wince slightly and smiled in grim satisfaction at the audience's obvious discomfort. "Behold, your king and queen!"

The auditorium erupted into applause and cheers once more.

"The prophecy shall now be fulfilled, my subjects. Soon, the Dark Lord shall rise again!"

With a final cheer, she linked arms with Draco, and the newly married couple walked behind the curtain. It shut with a heavy swish, successfully blocking out the howling crowd.

As Pansy sauntered by the altar, with Draco on her arm, she spun it around so that Hermione was now facing the bed. Pansy and Draco stood in front of her. As soon as the curtain had closed, Draco had lost his cocky attitude. He was uncharacteristically contrite and was looking at the floor, afraid to meet Hermione's eyes.

"What do you think about this, Granger?" Pansy said maliciously. She dragged Draco's face towards her own and planted a sloppy kiss on his mouth. He glared at her when she broke away, but she did not notice. Hermione's eyes filled with disgust, anger, and jealousy.

"Draco," Pansy barked, "prepare the potion." He hesitated for a moment, looking from Pansy to Hermione, as if debating his next move. "_Now_, Draco." She pointed her wand threateningly at Hermione's chest.

This was the only push he needed. Wordlessly, he strode over to the cauldron and deftly started chopping the ingredients and adding them as the book dictated. While he worked, Pansy glared at Hermione. With a sharp movement, she yanked the gag from Hermione's mouth.

"What did you think of the ceremony, Granger? Wasn't it just _divine_?"

Trying to work fluids back into her mouth, Hermione hesitated. She was also trying to think of the answer that would appease Pansy the most. Then, she stopped. 'Screw this,' she thought with a semi-psychotic smile. 'It looks like my death is fast approaching anyways. Why not have some fun?'

"It was disgusting," Hermione replied conversationally. "You looked terrible."

Although it was a weak blow, it nevertheless served its purpose. Pansy's face contorted nastily in anger. At Hogwarts, it was no secret that Pansy was obsessed with appearances, be it her own or those around her. She always made sure she looked her best and dared not be seen with someone who looked the least bit dumpy. She came closer to Hermione, fists clenched at her sides, deep breaths rushing between her clenched teeth.

Ever the superficial princess, Pansy proceeded to chew Hermione out. "What do you know about looks?" she spat, looking her up and down. "Have you seen your hair?" She grabbed a fistful of it and tugged, causing Hermione to cry out. Pansy threw Hermione's head backwards and took a step back, sizing her up. "You never knew how to dress in school either. From the looks of it, things haven't changed much. Guess you didn't need it though; you had Potter and Weasley to screw whenever you wanted." Hermione heard a tinkle of glass near Draco; he had broken a phial and turned slightly paler than normal. "And those two were so desperate they took whatever they could get, even if it was inhuman," Pansy finished.

Hermione's eyes blazed at the insult to her dead friend's memory. With fire in her eyes, she spat in Pansy's face. "Better than being the Slytherin _whore_," Hermione hissed at a gaping and horrified Pansy. "There's no way that could be hidden from the school. You slept with the whole Quidditch team and then some. Obviously, you continued that trend." She then shot a sour look at Draco, needing another subject for the blistering anger coursing through her. "Not a very good one, though. You never got paid for it _and_ your man left you for another. Ha, and not just any other," she said with a vindictive smile. "_He left you for me_."

Pansy looked like she was about to hit Hermione when Draco's voice broke through the tension. "It is ready."

Both women looked at him, one with an expression of relief, the other with dread.

"Excellent," said Pansy. "Everything is according to schedule. The potion needs five minutes to simmer. After that, we will consummate our marriage," she took a hold of Draco's hand, "add the final ingredient," she glared at Hermione, "and Lord Voldemort shall soon be reborn."

Hermione could not help but to laugh, again, a bit maniacally. "Do you seriously think that will work, Parkinson?" she asked with a mad smile. "What is happening tonight is the most ridiculous scheme ever imagined. It's something out of a story book, not reality."

"Afraid, are we?" Pansy replied with a sneer. "You'll just have to witness for yourself if it works or not. And believe me, it will."

"Well, I think the entire thing is a hoax. The entire prophecy room was destroyed our Fifth Year; there's no way you could have gotten hold of one."

"That's the beauty of actual Seers, Mudblood," Pansy said with a smirk. "We tapped all of their houses and waited for a prophecy. Something was bound to speak of the Dark Lord's glorious return. We were right."

"The chances of Voldemort returning twice are incredibly slim," Hermione said. "But say this prophecy is true, which I highly doubt. What is going to happen when little Voldemort grows up, pray tell?" she said sarcastically.

"That's the beauty of it, Granger. The Dark Lord will be able to start his reign immediately. Because of the spell, he will emerge from my womb nine months from now a fully grown man. He will have all the knowledge he possessed from his former life, but will be more powerful than ever. And I shall be his second in command," she said with pride.

Hermione regarded Pansy skeptically. She arched an eyebrow and said, "One, that's biologically impossible. Even _with_ magic, there's no way that you can give birth to a fully grown man without you yourself dying. And two, Voldemort does not have a second in command," Hermione chuffed. "So even if you do live through this "birth", he's not going to respect you. He did not respect his followers then, he would not respect his followers now. Nothing will change," she said with malice in her voice.

"Shut up!" Pansy yelled, obviously frightened by Hermione's use of logic. "I am bringing him back into this world, and for that, he will remain in my debt!"

Hermione let out a sharp laugh. Her sudden intake of breath hurt, but she did not let it show. "_You_? In Voldemort's debt? Don't be thick. You will never be anything but a _pawn_."

A loud buzzing sound filled the room: it was the potion timer. Draco obediently walked over to the cauldron and removed it from the heat.

Pansy gave a throaty chuckle. "Ready, Draco?" She looked at Hermione and gave her a sick and triumphant smile. She grabbed Draco's hand and led him slowly towards the bed. She snaked her hands up his body, un-tucking his shirt. His hands remained inert at his sides. She forced his head down and put her lips upon his. Hermione looked away, but could hear her tongue forcing its way into his mouth; the sloppy sound of saliva made her shudder.

"Mmm, just like old times, isn't it, Draco?" Pansy asked.

Hermione opened her eyes again, noticing that Draco's shirt was now off and his belt was unbuckled. He was halfway to the bed, inching ever closer to their wands, to their only chance of salvation.

'He had better hurry, else this could be over before it even begins,' Hermione thought, trying not to scream in anger and sadness.

Draco seemed to be thinking along the same vein. He kept his eyes open as Pansy's hands roamed his body and backed her up more forcefully towards the bed. Hermione saw Pansy bump into the bed and lay down.

'Now!' Hermione thought. What she expected to see was Draco grab his wand and start to fight. What actually happened made her ill.

Draco looked back at Hermione, eyes glittering with some emotion made unrecognizable by the distance between them. After three seconds, he broke his gaze. Incensed by some unknown passion, he straddled Pansy, now kissing her in earnest. His hands started to travel her body, touching her chest, stomach, butt, and legs through her clothes. She heard Pansy moan with pleasure and saw her long leg wrap around Draco's waist.

'He's not going to save me,' Hermione thought. 'He was against me all this time.' Tears filled her eyes. 'He hasn't changed,' she realized gloomily. 'He's infatuated with power. Now that he has some, why would he let it go? This whole time…I was the pawn…'

To Hermione's surprise, the realization that she had been manipulated and now doomed did not make her cry. Instead, she felt something much worse: the physical pain of her heart being rent in two. It was more terrible than any other pain she had experienced. Her head fell forward onto her chest in exhaustion and hopelessness. She had resigned herself to physical death a while ago. What she was not counting on was her emotional demise. But how could she experience anything else at that moment? The man she loved was having sex with his new wife before her very eyes.


	18. Chapter 18

Author's Note: So this is good stuff, eh? Chapter 18. Two more to go. Enjoy!

Escape

Pansy dragged Draco to the bed. Her lips pressed into his viciously, but they were completely devoid of feeling. Despite the history between them, her feelings had obviously changed, for which he was grateful. It was not as if _his_ attitude towards her would have changed had she still cared for him, but it would be slightly more difficult to kill her if it came down to the wire.

But that time had not yet come; he was instead still locked in her revolting embrace. Draco hated every moment of his deception. He hated it to the core of his being. The woman he loved was chained to an altar not but 15 feet away, bloody, tired, humiliated, and, he could see in her eyes, emotionally broken. He looked at her from across the room, wanting nothing more than to be in this position with her instead of Pansy. His eyes sparkled with stubbornly unshed tears before he focused his attention on Pansy.

'How am I ever going to do this?' he thought trying to find an appropriate time to get his wand and free Hermione. As much as he wanted to believe it could be done, he was beginning to lose hope.

Pansy's free hand stroked his face while the other lay inert at her side, the thin shaft of wood gripped loosely in her fingers. 'She needs to drop her wand,' he thought. 'I don't stand a chance if she's armed. But when? When?!'

Her eyes were closed in bliss and her lips brought into a pout. Draco looked at her like she was mad. Then, an idea struck him. Without any more hesitation, he tried to imagine what it was like with her years back. With the thought of their old passion rousing him, he captured her lips earnestly in his and stroked her body sensually. He was using all of his skill to relax her, aiming to loosen the grip on her wand just enough to allow him the upper hand.

Only one question remained: would it work?

XOX

'I can't give up,' thought Hermione, lifting her head up from her chest. A long-forgotten fire blazed behind her brown eyes, an emotion she had not felt since her days at Hogwarts. 'What am I doing? I'm a Gryffindor. I'm brave, I'm clever, and I'm self-sufficient. I do not need his help to survive. I'll get out of here by myself.'

Fueled by betrayal and a strongly renewed desire to live, Hermione started working her wrists out of the thick chains. The pain to her back was excruciating. She could feel the blood trickling faster and faster out of her skin, but she did not care. Hermione focused on what was absolutely necessary – everything else was unimportant. She pulled and twisted, trying to make her hand go as limp as possible. Blood trickled down her arm, lubricating her wrists, abetting her struggle only slightly. Her limbs were raw with effort and her muscles shaking with exhaustion. She bit her lip hard against the ever-intensifying pain, trying not to cry out. She yanked her wrist one last time. With a loud rattle of chain, her hand slipped free. Hermione almost shouted with joy.

Her arm fell limply to her side. She tried to move it, only succeeding in sending a shockwave of pain through her body, causing her to gasp and curl into her self. Blood rushed to the numb limb, igniting her nerve endings with fire. She spared a glance at the bed unnecessarily. Draco and Pansy were wrapped up in each other, but luckily they were both still partially clothed. Hermione doubted they even remembered she was there. As disgusting as it was, she wetted her hand with the pooled blood at her feet and slathered it on her other wrist. Within a minute, she tugged the limb free and slowly worked blood into it.

Once she regained use of both arms, she turned to the bed, her eyes set on one thing: her wand. Quickly and quietly, Hermione sunk to the floor and crawled over to the bed. She dodged Pansy and Draco's feet, which were still hanging off the bed. Her hand was snaking up to the nightstand when Pansy's leg suddenly jerked into her side. As Hermione grunted in pain, several things happened instantaneously. Pansy gave a surprised cry and immediately stopped snogging Draco. She roughly attempted to shove him off her and struggled to sit. Not missing a beat, Draco brought his hand down on Pansy's arm, knocking loose her wand. It went flying across the bed and landed on the floor with a clatter. Hermione sprang up and grabbed her wand from the nightstand. She pointed it threateningly at Pansy.

"What do you think of this, Parkinson?" With a hard and triumphant look in her eyes, Hermione shouted, "_Stupefy_!" She said it with such force that Pansy flew across the room and into the wall. She hit it with a sickening crunch and landed in a heap upon the floor. She saw Draco snatch his wand from the table and point it at Pansy, sending a "_Petrificus_ _Totalus_!" her way.

XOX

Draco was thankful that Hermione had acted so quickly; his plan was not working and by that time, he had run out of ideas. Now that he was able, he looked at her. Hermione's face was flushed and fire blazed in her eyes. She looked like a woman possessed. Her ferocity was written across her visage, her mouth twisted into a smirk that was both vengeful and proud. His eyes locked with hers, and he was almost frightened by what he saw; if provoked, Hermione looked as if she could have murdered him then and there. Yet he would not have blamed her at all if she did.

"Hermione, you have to listen to me..." he started, taking one step closer to her.

She sneered at him and whipped around, ignoring his plaintive request.

"Let's go," she said coldly.

Draco had a sinking feeling that his explanation for what had happened was not going to go as smoothly as he wanted. And this annoyed him. She started running quickly towards the exit, apparently not caring if Draco followed or not. She pressed herself flat against the wall, trying to remain inconspicuous as she peeked around the door. The coast was clear. She was about to dart out into the hall when Draco grabbed her arm. He pulled her back into the room against the wall.

"And just how do you plan on getting out of here, Hermione?" he asked, knowing very well that she did not have a plan.

"Sheer nerve," was her icy reply.

Draco rolled his eyes at her response. While clever, it was highly inappropriate. He was slightly upset with her attitude, even though he knew that _he_ was the cause of it. She started to march off once more, but Draco's hold on her arm effectively stopped her mid-step. "For some reason," he harshly whispered, his gray eyes sparkling, "I don't think that's going to be enough." He ignored her glare and continued talking. "We need a story, so just go along with what I say, got it? Now give me your wand."

She gave him a skeptical glare. After a calculating look, she curtly nodded and handed over her wand. Draco glanced out into the hall apprehensively, took a deep breath, and exited the room. Draco roughly grabbed her upper arm and strode out into the middle of the corridor, making no effort to disguise the noise he was making. The sound of their feet against the concrete alerted the guards.

"Where do you fink you're goin', then?" said one of the guards, a paunchy looking wizard with pinched face.

Draco looked down his nose at the guard and sneered. His look was so deadly that the guard flinched and looked down at his feet, instantly realizing his mistake "It is none of your business where I go!" Draco hissed. He raised his arm as if to strike the guard, who cringed. "Ah, you are not worth the energy," he said after a moment, lowering his arm. "You have a chance to redeem yourself. You are to call all of your guards off duty, do you understand me? All of them. I need to teach this Mudblood a lesson and I want no interruptions." He gave Hermione's arm a yank and she came staggering forward, giving him a searing look.

The guard stammered an apology and muttered into his armor the cessation of all guard duty. The now thoroughly harassed guard was left on his own to walk in the opposite direction, his pace quickening as his distance from Draco increased.

Draco waited until his footsteps were no longer audible and continued on his way, taking random turns and choosing paths he thought looked familiar. He had not mentioned this to Hermione, but he did not exactly know where the exit was.

Unfortunately, she noticed.

"Your plan was no better than mine. You have no idea where the exit is!" she hissed.

He shushed her and kept walking, his tight grip remaining on her upper arm.

XOX

Hermione could feel a bruise starting to form where Draco was holding onto her. She ignored this newest injury, though, concentrating instead on a way to locate the nearest exit.

"Draco, we need to ask some one where the exit is. We'll never get out of here any other way. And we have to hurry; Pansy will soon be discovered. As soon as that happens, we can forget about it."

"And just who do you suggest we ask, Hermione?" Draco said, spinning around to regard her with an annoyed glare. "The walls?"

"Yes," Hermione answered with a cocky grin.

XOX

Draco followed her pointed finger to a slightly irregular-looking spot on the wall. As he carefully edged closer to it, he discovered that it was a guard who had been taking a nap in the shadows. He had obviously not gotten the order to cease his duty as guard, for which Draco was grateful. The guard opened his eyes and started to shout when Draco gave him a knee to the stomach. The man fell to the floor, clutching his abdomen.

"You will tell us where the exit is, or else suffer a fate worse than death," Draco threatened, his wand at the guard's throat.

XOX

Hermione had no idea what Draco's threat could be, but it seemed to work. The man's scared eyes widened even more and, stuttering, he gave Draco directions.

He said nothing and silently stupefied the man.

Grabbing onto Hermione's arm once more, Draco led her down a passageway to their right. It was a maze of intertwining tunnels. Left, right, middle fork, fourth passage from the left…Draco led her down so many different routes that Hermione started to wonder if the man had told the truth. All the tunnels looked the same; for all they knew, the guard's directions were just leading them deeper into Entropy. She was about to voice her concern when Draco nearly ran into a ladder leading upwards.

Just then, Hermione heard an alarm start to sound. They had finally found Pansy.

Draco looked up at the ladder and back to Hermione. "Ladies first," he gestured with a cocky smile.


	19. Chapter 19

Author's Note: Wow, the second to last chapter. I'm actually quite proud of this one, so I really hope you all enjoy it. :)

The Pinnacle

Hermione wasted no time in scurrying up the ladder. The adrenaline coursing like a river through her system somehow gave her body the strength it needed to make its way up in minimal time. With a grunt, she moved aside the manhole cover and poked her head through. She was not surprised to find herself on an empty street that was dark as pitch. To her relief, traffic was nonexistent. She pulled herself out safely and took a deep breath of the fresh outside air. It smelled like rain and electricity; a telltale sign that a thunderstorm was fast approaching. And from the thick and ominous purple color of the clouds, it was going to be a bad one.

Draco pulled himself out after her and grabbed her arm. Together, they Apparated to in front of Hermione's house. The first thing she did was cast several protective wards around her residence. If Entropy came looking for her again, she would know well ahead of time. Once she was satisfied, she started to stiffly walk towards the door, wanting nothing more than to slam it in Draco's face. After tonight, she would be more than happy to never see him again.

Or, at least, that's what she told herself.

XOX

Hermione pulled away from him and walked hurriedly towards her house. He knew that if she crossed the threshold, there was a good chance that they would never speak again. There was no way Draco could allow that to happen. After all that they had gone through, together the entire time, not seeing her, not being with her, would be a fate worse than death.

He caught up to her in three steps and grabbed her arm, gently this time. "Hold on for a moment." He could barely see the brown in her eyes, but despite the light, or lack thereof, he could see them shine. Slowly, he placed his hands at the hem of her shirt, maintaining eye contact, trying to regain the trust he was sure he had lost.

Hermione flinched slightly as Draco lifted up her shirt. He winced at the sight of the long gash running down Hermione's side. For a moment, he was stunned. How she had ever managed to make it through Entropy, up the ladder, and back to safety without passing out he would never know. She shuddered involuntarily against the cool night breeze that had begun to blow. Breaking out of his astonishment, he held the tip of his wand to her injury. It started to glow with a soft yellow light, which seeped into her side. Within seconds, the muscle and skin had knitted together. The wound was gone, as was the pain that accompanied it. Draco repeated the process to the other injured areas of Hermione's body, each with equal tenderness and compassion. He finished his ministrations within a minute.

It was then that Draco started to pull Hermione up the walk, eager to get inside and away from the chaos of the night. And this way, it would ensure that they got inside the house together. It would ensure that they would speak. But it was not to be so simple. Hermione took two steps, then stopped dead in her tracks. He tried to pull her again, looking back at her with insistent eyes.

"Hermione, move!"

She said nothing. Instead, she yanked her hand from his grasp and slapped him across the face. He turned back towards her, surprised at the strength she still possessed even after what she had gone through. He locked eyes with her. She slapped him again, her face the portrait of indignant pride.

Draco brought his face back to hers once more, not caring how hard or often she hit him. He loved her – his pain no longer mattered.

"Hermione," he said quietly.

"I was okay, you know," she said to Draco in an accusing voice. "I was doing just fine. Seven years after The War and I was just beginning to piece my life back together. I had finally found a job that I liked and that I was good at. I had just tuned out the screams of my dying friends that haunted my dreams. I was just beginning to forget the horrors that kept me up at night. I was finally releasing my past and starting to live my life how it was supposed to be lived." Her eyes filled with tears and her voice was choked with emotion.

"Then _you_ showed up. You came waltzing in my door one night and brought back everything. You brought back my memories from Hogwarts, my memories of Harry and Ron, of the Order, when all I wanted to do was forget them."

Lightening lit up the dark environment and a rumble of thunder interrupted Hermione's narrative. The sky started to open and heavy drops of water fell from it, slowly at first. Soon, the rain came down in sheets. Every so often, a bolt of lightening would illuminate the scene: two figures against a silver screen of water, dripping with sweat, water, blood, and tears.

She laughed wryly and she her head. "But you don't know about any of this…" she accused in a searing voice. "Why do I even bother? Because what do you know? All of this, all of The War…It's all a mystery to you, Draco! The hurt that war causes, the loss, the pain...You haven't experienced any of it! You ran away! You left! You, who were supposed to be Voldemort's golden boy, left!

"And why do you think I left, Hermione?" Draco shouted, advancing on her, eyes flashing with anger. "I was supposed to be Voldemort's 'golden boy'! Yes! I was! But do you think for a moment that was what I wanted? I ran because I was scared of the path I was expected to walk! And so I left before The War even started, disassociating myself from both the Death Eaters and the Order. I took no one's side. Instead, I went into hiding, detaching myself from everyone I knew. Though I did not see their deaths, I heard of them every day. My friends, my family…their deaths played out in my mind in excruciating detail.

"And so you want to talk to me about pain?" Draco continued with a harsh laugh. "Imagine hearing day after day of death, death that you could have prevented, death that you feel responsible for because _you_ were the fool, the bastard, the _coward_ that let it all happen! I left because I couldn't deal with what I had done. Maybe my decision was the coward's way out, maybe it was for my own survival. But the day I left…" His gray eyes took on a far-away look and his voice lowered. "I lost a part of myself that day, Hermione. And each day, I remember them, my face a constant reminder of all the death that has occurred because of my foolishness. I live with their memories, and it kills me."

"But _I_ was beginning to forget them, Draco," Hermione said plaintively. "I was okay! I had a job, I had my health, I had my _life_! I was beginning to be okay! I-I…" She broke off for a moment, looking around her as if the rain would supply the words she so desperately wanted to say. "The War was over!" she cried into the night. "I was supposed to be okay…" She said the last in a voice so softly it could barely be heard over the pounding rain. Her words drowned in her sobs. Draco made no move to comfort her. Her tears stopped flowing for a minute as she steadily regarded him.

"You ruined it for me. You know that, right?" Her tone was one of angry defeat. "You ruined it. I had a chance to live in relative happiness for the rest of my days, but now…Now, I can never forget. I will always remember you, and with you, my past. _You_ are my reminder, Draco. And I will never forgive you for it."

He was about to speak, about to tell her that he would just leave and she would never have to see him again. He was about to tell her that, if it meant her happiness, he would gladly never contact her again, no matter how hard it was. He was about to tell her that he would disappear from her life and that she could start to forget again and be happy and live her life, when she spoke in a soft, gentle voice.

"But now that you're actually here, now that you're with me, I don't want to forget. I don't want to forget anymore…" she said as tears rolled steadily down her face.

To Draco, her sobs were louder than thunder, her tears wetter than the rain. He gathered her shaking form in his arms and kissed the top of her head. He let her cry into him, hearing her whisper, "I don't want to forget anymore. Draco, I love you."

He tensed at her confession and pulled himself away from her and looked down at her soaking form. Hermione's beautiful brown curly hair was plastered to her head from the rain and her eyes were red-rimmed from her salty tears. Her face was covered in small scars from various cuts and scrapes; dried blood was being loosened and washed away from the deluge of rain.

She could not have been more beautiful.

Draco cupped her chin in his hand and brought his lips down to hers in a tender kiss.

A wind picked up suddenly and swirled around them, capturing the embracing couple in a watery vortex. He pulled her face away from his for a short moment, just long enough for him to say, "I love you, Hermione."

Tenderness then turned to passion as they kissed again. Draco swore he had been struck by lightening. He felt a jolt travel through him, starting at his lips and working its way quickly down to his loins. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. Draco felt her experience a similar reaction and smiled against her lips. He ran his hands over her body, feeling her every curve through her sopping wet clothing. He felt her shudder against him and deepened their kiss. Their tongues moved to a sensuous dance of desire and their bodies started to reciprocate.

Hermione could feel Draco's want and broke apart their embrace. She locked eyes with him, seeing the steel of his eyes swirl with molten lust. She knew her eyes held the same emotion.

"Hermione," he asked, "is this what you want?"

Without hesitation, she pulled him into another fiery embrace. "Yes, Draco," she whispered feverishly against his lips, "Yes. I want you," she whispered, voice deep and husky with lust. "I love you."

Quickly, not bearing to spend more than a moment away from one another's embrace, they made their way into Hermione's house. And there, in the bed that but a few days ago held two mortal enemies, Draco and Hermione made love for the first time.

XOX

Hermione woke up in Draco's tight embrace. She could feel his warm chest against her back, which was aching slightly. She turned around so that they were chest to chest and was surprised to find Draco already awake and staring at her. His grey eyes were alert but soft, reflecting the sun's early dawn rays.

"I love you, Draco," she whispered to him after a moment.

He hesitated. Hermione felt a little worm of worry work its way through her as she searched his eyes for what he was feeling. She could tell he was nervous. But why?

"Marry me?" he said in a small, tentative voice no louder than a whisper.

Hermione's eyes widened and her jaw dropped as her brain processed what Draco had just said.

"What?" She asked both out of confusion and a desperate need to hear it again.

"Hermione, marry me." He said it more like a statement now than a question, as if it were a fact.

It basically was.


	20. Chapter 20

Loose Ends

The happy couple emerged from Hermione's house a few days later, not quite shagged out, but knowing that they needed to tie up a few loose ends before settling down.

Their first stop was the Ministry of Magic.

They Apparated to the guest's entrance. Draco started walking forward, holding his hand out for Hermione's and meeting air. He looked back at her. She was still standing where they had appeared, fear, resentment, and attachment all apparent in her shining brown eyes. Draco walked over to her. The shine he saw turned out to be unshed tears.

She cut him off before he could speak. "Draco, I'm sorry," she said, shaking her head in embarrassment. "I'm being silly, I'm…"

He shook his head and shushed her. "Hermione, I understand. Here," he said, holding out his hand. "I'm with you."

She smiled at him gratefully and together, they walked into the booth and arrived in the Atrium.

They quickly explained their reason for being at the Ministry and were almost immediately sent up to see Scrimgeour. A few hours later, they emerged, quite content with their new Second Class Order of Merlin's, but quite tired of talking. The Minister had insisted on hearing their entire story, asking for some bits to be repeated five or six times. The tale was more emotionally draining than either had anticipated. So instead of doing the other things they had planned for the day, Draco decided that it would be best if they just went home. Needless to say, Hermione put up no resistance.

XOX

The next day, Draco and Hermione had planned to tell their friends, mainly, the Weasley family, about their upcoming wedding. Draco was less than enthusiastic about the meeting, suggesting that he could stay home while Hermione took care of it.

But Hermione was not to hear of it. "Please, Draco. They need to know. The Weasleys are a second family to me. I can't _not_ tell them that I'm getting married. And it would mean a lot to me if you were there with me. I'm sure it'd mean a lot to them as well."

Draco grimaced. "If by 'it'd mean a lot to them' you mean 'they'd get to murder you themselves', I'd say you're correct." Hermione gave him a look which Draco met pointedly. Hermione knew he dreaded having to face the Weasley family. In fact, the only thing that could be worse was facing his father with the news. But thank Merlin he would not have to do that. He told Hermione this and earned another annoyed look.

"Draco, for me? Please?" she begged.

He was still leaning towards no. But her eyes were shining too brightly and her lips pouting a bit too far. He couldn't resist. "Fine!" he said exasperatedly. "But I get to have my way with you later!" he said gruffly, bringing her close. Hermione's giggle was cut off abruptly as they embraced with mounting fervor.

Hermione, exerting a surprising amount of self-control, pulled away and winked at him saucily. "What ever you want," she said huskily.

The promise of a good time later soothed Draco's nerves enough to Apparate to The Burrow, where Hermione received a warm welcome.

Draco was nearly hexed on sight.

But once Hermione explained the situation, to her and Draco's obvious surprise, the family took it quite well. Ron, who happened to be home at the time, tried to curse Draco but missed and ended up blowing a softball-sized hole in the wall.

"Just give him a few weeks to calm down, dear," said Mrs. Weasley to a visibly shaken Hermione. "It's just a shame you have to leave so soon!"

Hermione thought of Draco was waiting outside. "I wish I could stay, Mrs. Weasley, but we have a lot to take care of before…" Hermione grinned guiltily and Mrs. Weasley smiled and drew her into a hug. She said her final goodbyes and promised to keep in touch.

She walked out of The Burrow to a cross Draco. "I could have told you that wasn't going to go well," he said once Hermione had calmed down.

"Oh shut up," she said, playfully hitting Draco on the arm. "That went better than we both thought it would and you know it."

After they Apparated back, Draco gave a grin to rival the Cheshire Cat and took Hermione in his arms, tickling her. She laughed as they both fell to the floor. Their good humor increased tenfold as his tickling turned to something more interesting.

They could not make it to the bedroom fast enough, where Hermione fulfilled her promise several times over.

XOX

The wedding was held in May at a small chapel. Draco had no relatives that he would admit to, so it was the Weasley family, the remainder of the Order, and a few of Hermione's relatives. Hermione and Draco steadily exchanged their vows, rings, and kiss, to the delight of everyone in the audience, even Ron, once he had enough Firewhiskey. They honeymooned in Paris, thoroughly enjoying their stay.

XOX

Three years passed.

Soon after the honeymoon, Draco moved into Hermione's home. They resumed business as usual with a few minor changes. Hermione had now been promoted to head of the research department and it was flourishing like never before. Draco was now a Ministry-recognized spy, but still took side jobs from his old clients. His reluctance to retire from his old job at first made Hermione sick with worry, but she knew Draco would have it no other way.

One morning, Draco and Hermione were having breakfast. A barn owl swooped through the open kitchen window, clutching the Daily Prophet in its talons. As usual, Hermione stood to retrieve the paper and dropped a knut into it's pouch. It took off in a flurry of feathers.

"Hermione, could you pass me the sports section?" Draco asked without looking up from his toast.

"Draco," she said, gripping the back of the chair.

He looked up from his toast, no doubt wondering where the sports section was. "What is it?"

Hermione hesitated for a moment, trying to think of the best way to tell him. Coming up with nothing, she decided to go with the straightforward approach.

"I guess there's no other way to tell you than to just say it, so here it goes." She hesitated before: "Draco, I'm pregnant."

She said it very matter-of-factly, her voice never wavering. Draco did not take it with such grace. He looked utterly confused for a moment, as if somehow wondering how she _could_ be pregnant. As what she said sunk in, he widely smiled, jumped up, and walked over to her. Without faltering, Draco took her into his arms. She cuddled up into his chest, hearing him whisper with disbelief, "I'm going to be a dad."

She pulled away from him and gave him a kiss, which he returned with enthusiasm.

"Draco?" she murmured against his lips.

"Yes dear?"

"I love you."

He smiled softly and kissed her once more. Hermione knew concretely she would never want to forget again, and, if Draco had anything to do with it, she never would.

**The End**


End file.
